


Of Nightmares and Empty Spaces

by LivingAmongDreams



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Drug Use, Hallucinations, I don't know what else to put here, Multi, My First Fanfic, Narcolepsy, Other, Polyamory, Slow Build, bisexual sole survivor, shenanigans gallore, so much drug use, thought experiment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:51:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9542432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivingAmongDreams/pseuds/LivingAmongDreams
Summary: Waking up 200 years after the bombs dropped is bad enough, but when Lacuna realizes she is left with two dead partners and a kidnapped child she vows to do everything in her power to get her baby back. Surviving in a post apocalyptic hell is hard enough without mental and health issues. Yet with a little help, Lacuna finds that perhaps she can accomplish the impossible in a world she was never meant to be a part of.(Or, 'where I toss an emotionally unstable SS with a sleep disorder among this lovable band of misfits and see what chaos ensues'...)





	1. Wasteland Survival 101

 Lac was tired. While this feeling was in no way new, it was now accompanied by sore muscles, an empty stomach, and the burning itch of skin burnt red by too much sun. She scowled beneath her gas mask, eyes flicking toward the sky. The sun had never been that bright  _before_. Then again, the world  _before_  hadn’t consisted of an irradiated wasteland inhabited by people and animals all trying to kill her. Lac shook her head in disgust and quickly turned her mind to other thoughts, trying not to dwell on the now seemingly perfect life that now only existed in dreams and memories. She missed it terribly, her life from before the bombs. Before the Vault. Her eyes still felt puffy and red from the deluge of sobbing that had wracked her body after she surfaced, but she had put an end to her tears days ago. While it had been tempting to wallow in depression and disbelief at the sight of Sanctuary Hills (and her previous life) in ruins, she had a son to find. So despite Codsworth’s urging that she recover under his care, Lac deduced that she had no hope of getting anything done unless she steeled up and did it herself. So she had wiped away her tears, raided her old neighborhood for any useful supplies for the upcoming journey, and crossed the broken bridge out of Sanctuary Hills.

    Now that she was out walking, she almost regretted her decision. She was no stranger to long hours on her feet, but she was in no condition to be traveling. Years of working in healthcare made it hard to miss the obvious signs of shock, likely from both the bombs dropping and waking up 200 years later with two dead partners and a kidnapped son, but she had always prided herself on being determined and more than a bit stubborn. She might as well take advantage of the numbing effect the shock provided and power through the unwanted side effects as they appeared. The shock would have been bad by itself, but she also sported a collection of physical hurts she obtained in her escape from the Vault. The worst was the slow healing chemical burns she sustained as the malfunctioning cryo-pod spit her out into the sealed crypt of Vault 111. Gaseous chemicals meant to keep her in her frozen sleep had leaked out of damaged tubing to eat into the tissue along her left side, lacing a frosty pattern on her skin from the side of her face down to her hip. Her face and neck showed the most damage and Lac supposed that the Vault Suit had protected the majority of her body from the faulty containment pod. Regardless, the tender scars still sent a fresh flare of pain through her nerves with each shift of the course, makeshift bandages.

    To combat the pain and her reeling mind, she had eagerly dug into the chem supply Nate had stashed about the house the moment she remembered it existed. She knew for a fact there had been Med-X among the syringes and had prayed to whatever gods ruled the deserted wasteland around her that they hadn’t been stolen long ago. While the most obvious hiding spots had been empty, Nate had been crafty and sure enough there had been quite the store once Lac had collected them all. After the first hit of many, Lac was silently grateful to Gabe Hawthorne, one of her old neighbors, despite how he continued to sell drugs to Nate behind her and Nora’s backs. With the impressive collection that now sat safely nestled in her pack, Lac only hoped she wouldn’t end up traveling the same road as her late partner. It was hard to navigate life, but oh so easy to look back at her mistakes...

    Snorting in amusement at the last thought, Lac rechecked her map for the umpteenth time that hour. Her little bit of wisdom certainly applied to more than just bad choices and drug use. Lac was immensely glad that her new Pipboy came with a map function as she had always been directionally challenged. She could spend years in a small town and still get lost, so moving to a huge city like Boston had been a veritable nightmare for her. Yet Nora had insisted on being close to her family during the pregnancy, so with much pleading and the unfair use of puppy-eyes the trio packed up and relocated to the big city. After the move, Lac struggled to make her way to and from work without taking at least one unintentional detour. Or, she had. Now her main goal was tearing apart this wretched wasteland to find her son and destroy the assholes who dared to ruin her already miserable day. Her jaw clenched painfully at the thought and she shook her head again. Such ideas were invading her mind more often and grew darker with each passing day. She wasn’t sure if it was depression or her anger issues coming back out to play. Either way, she was slipping into an image of herself she thought she had discarded long ago.  _ _Add unbelievably dark and cranky to the list of complaints__ , Lac huffed with a sardonic laugh,  _ _Someone obviously hasn’t had their morning coffee!__

    Kicking an empty bottle down the road in frustration, Lac admitted that coffee was one of the things she missed most about time before the Vault. Not television, not the fancy cars, not even the luxuries that living with a soldier brought. It was coffee, followed closely by good food and modern medicine. But those things were all destroyed along with everything else by the stupid fucking bombs and she was still trying to adjust. Bully for her. She was  _ _this__  close to actually shooting someone for any one of the three listed items, if only they still existed. Which just devolved in her wanting to shoot something all the more. Those molerats back at Red Rocket had been terrifying, but not quite suitable targets for her caffeine-withdrawal induced violence. At least she had managed to save the dog during that fiasco. Said dog trotted happily by her side, occasionally running off to smell something interesting or scout for danger. Or that is what she assumed. Lac still had yet to determine how smart her new companion was and though he seemed intelligent enough to coordinate with her to fight the pack of molerats, it wasn’t a large enough sample size to draw any conclusions. She would just have to wait. He had managed to fetch her a few interesting goodies without her prompting, though, so her hopes were up.

    It was also nice to have a travel companion. While she was in no way a clingy person, the half hour of walking between Sanctuary Hills and the Red Rocket had grated on her nerves. There was literally danger all around her and Lac had no clue as to how to avoid the majority of it. The dog was a great indicator and would naturally steer her away from seemingly innocent puddles before her Geiger counter could even start to dance.

   Her attention jerked back to reality as her dog nosed her hand. He barked once, then slunk down and peered up at her expectantly.

 “What’s up boy?” She asked quietly, sinking down to her knees so she could be at his level. “You smell something interesting?”

    The dog replied with a grumbling whine and a lick to the face before he darted toward a building at what appeared to be the edge of Concord. He was still low to the ground, hunkered down and quiet as a shadow now that he wasn’t trying to get her attention. He looked back in her direction and pranced silently, somehow conveying that she needed to join him just as carefully.  _ _Intelligent he is__ , Lac decided with a shallow nod. She followed his example, sneaking carefully but quickly to the building and peering round the corner by the porch railing. She still couldn’t see anything, but she heard a faint popping noise and the distinct sound of a laser in the distance. That had her perking up. A laser meant technology and maybe even people to operate it. She might love her happy robotic butler and her new furry friend, but they couldn’t exactly tell her what the hell was going on in this new fucked up world. Her insides clenched in a mix of trepidation and joy. As much as she preferred her space, she needed answers and it seemed that Codsworth had been right to direct her attention to Concord.

    With renewed determination, Lac crept her way toward the center of Concord, keeping to the broken remains of buildings and carefully skirting the piles of debris that covered the streets. She may not be the most graceful, but she had enough hunting experience from her youth to remember how to stalk undetected when she concentrated. She popped inside a few of the buildings that hadn’t been boarded up, looking for anything that she could use or a good vantage point to see what was happening ahead. Something was most definitely happening, for the closer she got to the center of town, the louder the sounds became. She was even beginning to hear voices, though their words where still indistinguishable. In accordance with her miserable luck, however, every rooftop was either too far away, every balcony faced the wrong direction, and any promising landings had collapsed stairways. Her efforts had not proven to be completely fruitless, though. In her search, Lac found quite a few goodies, including some mostly intact clothing, various calibers of ammo, and a few stimpacks. She had even opened up a blood splattered yellow box to find drug paraphernalia. Lac had never been one for recreational drugs in her youth, so she had no idea what was in the unlabeled syringes or the little red inhaler. That was even if the drugs were prewar. Who knew what survivors had managed to cook up in the 200 years she’d been frozen. What Lac did know was that drugs of any kind would fetch a pretty penny if sold to the right person. With this in mind, she decided to pocket them until she found someone who could explain the contents and their worth.

    The likelihood of finding someone to answer her growing list of questions grew as she crept close enough to distinguish what was now obviously a shootout. Pausing to listen, Lac could identify that the group closest to her were hopped up on something. They were extremely violent, their words slurred and filled with twisted glee as they taunted their victims. Lac was almost positive she could skirt around the conflict and find someone to help her that wasn’t in the middle of fighting for their life, but this was her best bet. She had no guarantee that the next people she stumbled across would be in a better situation or that they would talk to her at all. She didn’t exactly fit the bill of an imposing figure. Decked out in ill-fitting pilfered armor, carrying nothing but a small pistol, and with the signs of element exposure written all over her once pampered body, Lac likely looked like an easy target. Yet her conscious decided to make an appearance and browbeat her for even thinking of leaving these people to fight for their lives by themselves. She helped people for a living, didn’t she?

    Groaning at her impending stupidity, Lac drew the 10mm she had swiped from the Vault and made sure it was loaded. Patting her pockets, she figured she had four spare clips ready to go and then would have to improvise. Lucky her. Peeking round her cover, she spotted an indecently-clad man shuffling behind a car before leaning over the top to take a few wobbly shots at someone out of view. Lac cocked an eyebrow; was this  _ _apocalyptic stripper__  really that much of a threat? He couldn’t even shoot straight, not to mention that his idea of protection involved a sack over his face but didn’t extend to a shirt. Yet a cry of pain followed his shots and the man laughed viciously before ducking back down into cover. Yep, he was nasty and Lac would take him out. She waited until he turned back to shoot, then signaled to her dog to follow as she broke cover and darted to the man’s side. When he ducked down again, she was waiting and his surprise was cut short by a fist to the windpipe followed by the butt of her gun slamming into his temple with a sickening crunch. No sense in alerting the rest to her location, after all.

    She dared a peek over the hood of the car, only to shoot back down behind cover as the red of a laser blast hit the corroded metal in front of her. After quickly patting herself all over to make sure all her favorite limbs were indeed still attached and unharmed, Lac let out a shaky sigh of relief, then angrily flipped the shooter the bird before she could help herself. Old habits die hard, after all. She was just happy she had just managed to fight back the urge to yell a few choice colorful insults when she was this close to being inside a car. When her hand wasn’t immediately shot off for her stupidity, Lac cautioned another peek over the hood. She had either confused the shooter to inaction or he realized she wasn’t a threat when she didn’t retaliate with her own shots. Either way, she didn’t receive another close call with the red beam of death when her gaze cleared the rusted metal of the car she was pressed against. Good. She turned her focus to the streets in front of her and took in what she could before returning to the relative safety of cover. In her brief survey of the field, she identified a handful of individuals on the street dressed similarly to the idiot at her feet. They all seemed to be aiming up at the higher levels of the museum. Sure enough, a glance toward the historic building revealed a lone figure huddled tightly against the doorframe. If she would have had a decent rifle, she could have picked him off easily from this angle, but one look at his clothing let her know he was at least twice as sane as the nutters with her on ground level. He even had a fancy cowboy hat and a weathered duster; she couldn’t fault style in a man.

    Lac did not need another look at the road ahead of her to know what she needed to do, but instead nodded grimly as her decision was finalized. She would help the cowboy clean out these half-dressed lunatics and then grill him for information when they were safe. It wasn’t a hard decision to make, after all. Lac had a suspicion that the only help the crazies had to offer would be to help themselves to her possessions and gift her with a bullet to her head for the trouble. A plan formed in her mind (the outline of one, at least) and she took off before her nerve and adrenaline failed her. Or before common sense reasserted itself and she ran the other way. She sprinted from cover to cover, her dog on her heels, until she was directly behind the main mass of junkies. A few were turning around, having noticed movement behind them, but she picked them off first with a rapid  _ _pop! pop!__  of her little pistol. She didn’t let herself think about what she was doing as they slumped down, alerting the remaining targets of danger.  _ _It’s just like hunting__ , she told herself:  _ _breathe in, steady her grip and aim, breathe out, pull the trigger. You are no stranger to blood and guts. Get a grip, woman!__  She ignored the fact that she held a pistol instead of a rifle or medical instruments. Lac had never killed anyone before, but she had made her career in the medical field and was no stranger to human death. She would just have to come to terms with her being the direct cause of it after the fight.

    As the group in front of her became aware of her presence, they scattered. Some simply turned to fire crude pistols at her, but she gunned them down quickly enough. Others were slightly smarter, or less high, and darted into the old convenience store to their right. A few actually jumped cover, putting a wall of sandbags and debris between Lac and themselves. What they had forgotten was that they had been shooting at a different enemy moments before, one who easily reduced them to piles of glowing ash with a few calculated red flashes of a laser now that they were on the other side of the barrier. This display (or rather, its result) caused Lac to sweat and be glad the man behind the laser hadn’t decided to shoot off her hand earlier. She liked having use of both hands, thank you very much. Sending him a silent ‘thank you’, she turned her attention to the junkies holed up in the store. She managed to cripple one woman through the broken window and then silence her yelling when she dropped to the floor in pain. Lac grimaced. Alright, so it wasn’t quite like hunting, but she had no choice now. She was in the thick of it and the man hiding in the museum obviously needed help. Steeling herself and promising to break open that bottle of rum the looters hadn’t managed to find in her old house when this was done, Lac crawled up to the window and downed two more of the foul-mouthed druggies. It was time to buck up and clean house.

    The general store was cleared relatively quickly after that, Lac making sure to go all the way to the roof to pick off any possible threats and search their pockets for more ammo. She found that she had been right about their addiction. A plethora of track marks decorated the bend of their arms, their thighs, and even the hands and feet of some. Lac also found quite the collection of drugs in their pockets. She stashed those with the ones she already had, careful to not stick herself with the no-doubt contaminated needles. She didn’t even want to think about what diseases these people probably had. Once she had what she needed, she hurried back down the stairs and scanned the streets for reinforcements. Seeing none, she crept out slowly only to jump and dive behind cover when she heard a voice raised to catch her attention.

 

“Hey, up here! On the balcony!”

 

  When shots didn’t follow the yell, Lac rose up slightly to glare at the man over her cover. Not that he could see it from behind the gasmask, but still.

“I’ve got a group of settlers inside! The raiders are almost through the door! Grab that laser musket and help us! Please!”

   His voice screamed desperation underneath his practical words. So they were trapped up there. Lac directed her gaze to where he pointed, finding not only the laser musket he had mentioned but also the body of a man dressed similarly to the one shouting above. She amended her previous thought. They were trapped and losing people by the minute. No wonder he sounded so urgent, especially if he was the only apparent defender left among the group. Lac ran to the museum, scooping up the gun and the scattered ammunition beside it without breaking stride. She wasn’t quite sure how to operate the strange gun yet, but its extended barrel suggested range that her 10mm lacked, so she would have to learn fast. Slipping through the unlocked doors of the museum, she crept up to the gate and surveyed the area. She was hazily familiar with the layout from a previous visit before Nate had been drafted, but collapsing walkways and rubble-blocked doorways led her to guess she might have to find detours to get to the third floor balcony.

   Instead of taking the direct route through the gate, which was locked anyway, Lac decided to save a bobby pin and gain a hidden vantage point by taking the hallway to her right. She was glad she had when she encountered one of these so-called raiders lurking about. She would have hated to bust through the gate only to be shot from behind by the punk. Quickly dispatching him before he noticed her, she continued to the door opening to the central hall. There were two raiders pinning down the balcony entrance, but they were on the second floor walkway. Lac pulled out the laser musket and quickly examined it, looking for clues on how to work the damned machine. The flickering red beam of the laser danced along the inside of the barrel and gathered en masse in the glass chamber. Pulling the trigger did a whole lot of nothing, but she gathered as much when the man had referred to it as a musket. It must need priming, but how?

   The crank on the left side of the stock caught Lac’s attention and a turn made the red static inside the chamber grow brighter and more agitated. There was little resistance on the crank, indicating that it might be able to be cranked tighter, but Lac didn’t trust the shoddy build of the weapon to hold up to higher levels of energy. She was impressed that it was holding together as it. Eyeballing the farthest raider through the inferior scope, she pulled the trigger and watched the man spin around as she clipped him in the shoulder. It was far from a killing blow, but she got lucky as the spin knocked him off balance enough to tip him over the edge of the broken walkway. He landed with a wet gasp and Lac didn’t waste another shot on him. Most likely punctured a lung, by the sounds of it, and she doubted he would bother her even if he stayed conscious. Her dog had other opinions. The German Shepard darted out to clamp down on the raider’s face and shake him like a favored chew toy, a performance worth of any K-9 unit attached to the army. Nate had always described them as leashed destruction, but Lac couldn’t ever picture it until now. The angry shout that soon echoed through the building came from the raider on the other side of the walkway and Lac cursed as she quickly cranked her musket and lined up her shot.

   Time seemed to slow down as she placed her bead on the raider’s head, panic coursing through her veins as she saw her target aiming for her dog. She would not lose anyone else, damn it. She felt her finger pull against the sweat slicked metal of the trigger and watched through her scope as the raider’s head exploded in a bloom of gore. Her ragged gasp brought time speeding back to normal and she promptly tore off her gasmask to empty her already starved stomach into the doorway beside her. The bitter taste of bile burning up her throat was a cruel realization that she could no longer distance herself from the fact that she was killing other human beings, no matter how animalistic these raiders might act. Wiping the sick from her face, Lac took another shaky moment to calm herself before standing and replacing the masked hood. Her dog trotted back to her side and rubbed against her limp hand, licking his bloody muzzle without any hint of the aggression she had just witnessed. Maybe she should take a page from his book. She might as well get practice in, for she had already decided that she would kill one man in cold blooded murder. What’s a few more added to the list?

   With a newfound, if shaky resolve steeling her spine, Lac tore her way upwards. She killed the remaining raiders with only a few repeat appearances of her queasy stomach. They were human, but they needed to be put down and she was there and able to do it. Just so long as she didn’t look them in the eye when she killed them, it was fine. Right? She kept her attention focused on moving upward and refused to look at the nightmare fodder she left in her wake even as she emptied their pockets. She lied to herself in a similar manner all the way up to the third floor. Hearing the two remaining raiders staking out the door, she took in her surroundings and formed a quick plan. Lac sent her dog to the far side of the doorway and then slammed the door to the Nuka-Cola machine beside her. The trap was set and she heard twin shouts of suspicious surprise. When the idiots came to investigate, she and her dog tore them apart in record time. When the last scream of a dying raider finished echoing through the crumbling building, blessed silence greeted Lac’s ears. No gunshots, no taunts, no moans of pain. Finally, the silence was broken by the questioning voice of the cowboy calling out to her. Moving quickly to the cracked doorway, Lac went to meet the group she had freed. She only hoped they would be worth the sacrifice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this first chapter! It is my first fanfic and I will gladly accept constructive critique and advice.
> 
> I have been toying with posting this for a while, so I really hope it is worth it! It began as a way to work through some of my issues, but quickly grew into a beast, so I decided to share it since so much work was going into it. Let me know how you feel about it in the comments! Love you guys! LAD out!
> 
> Edited 2/8/18 due to my complete and utter hatred of proofreading...Sorry!
> 
> (Note: none of these characters are mine. I just play with them. Please don't sue me!)


	2. Friends Old and New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Nate, Nora, and ... Kellogg? Lacuna has nightmares (understandable, really) and deals with having new settlers in her old home. Also, Dogmeat might be my favorite character. I love that dog.
> 
> *Important Note: There is a part in here after the dream sequence where Lac has a panic attack. If this bothers you, feel free to skip it and message me for a description about what info you missed. I don't want to have anyone panicking on me! Stay safe, my peeps!

_“Because if my time in the army has taught me anything, it’s that war, war never changes…”_

_Lac rolled her eyes at Nate’s dramatic tone as she swept by the bathroom. Unable to stop herself, she peeked through the open door to see her partner making faces as he practiced his speech in the mirror above the sink. Nora was behind him, rubbing the tension out of his shoulders and making the proper encouraging coos to boost his confidence._

_“You’re going to knock them dead at the veteran’s hall tonight, hun!” Lac cheered, pumping her fist in premature victory. Both Nate and Nora started in surprise, unaware of their watcher, before Nate rubbed the back of his neck nervously._

_“You think?” He asked, his tone lacking the borderline arrogant confidence it held before he was drafted. Lac’s smile fell slightly, then turned soft as she nodded._

_“Absolutely!” Nora filled in, giving his shoulders a squeeze. Nate let out a sheepish laugh, only to have it turn into a yelp when Nora jabbed his ribs playfully. “Now, get ready and stop hogging the mirror! You aren’t the only one who has to look presentable tonight!”_

_Lac snickered at their antics before continuing down the hall to finish putting away the laundry. Those two could easily spend hours in the bathroom primping themselves, so it was up to her actually get everything ready for tonight. Well, her and their miraculous robot butler. Sorting the stacks of clothes into their appropriate drawers, Lac snorted to herself as she heard the bathroom tickle war escalate. She rarely let herself be drawn into such things, preferring to keep to herself, so she was immensely grateful to have Nora in their relationship. It certainly made many things easier, especially after Nate had been drafted. He had changed so much since the day they had seen him off, the day his life as a soldier officially started. Noticing her thoughts were turning melancholy, Lac shook her head clear and stood. Such occasions called for a strong cup of coffee to clear her head and the latest episode of the Silver Shroud. If she didn’t listen to it now, there wouldn’t be time to later tonight and she just knew that loud-mouthed Margie would blab the ending at the party tonight. She hated that woman!_

_Ducking in Shaun’s room quickly to make sure he was still sleeping, she murmured soft nothings at the baby before quietly sliding the door shut. She tiptoed down the hall, all while the rational part of her rolled its eyes. Nate and Nora were certainly making enough noise to wake the entire neighborhood and it wasn’t disturbing Shaun, yet here she was tiptoeing like a fool down her own hallway. She continued anyway, only to pop back into a normal stance when she noticed Codsworth eyeing her curiously. She sent a silent thanks to his programmers for his discretion and impeccable manners, knowing her ridiculousness would never be shared at their next house party. Well, at least not from Codsworth, anyway._

_“Ah, good morning, mum!” the robot chirped happily, his accent never failing to make her grin. “I have your coffee ready for you, just the way you like it!”_

_“You are a lifesaver, my metallic friend!” Lac cheered back, eagerly taking the steaming mug from his rusty pincers. “What would I ever do without you?”_

_“Now, now, mum. I am sure you will be just fine.” Codsworth soothed, “Why, you have done wonders restoring the neighborhood and I’m sure Shaun will be thrilled to see it all when he finally comes home!”_

_“What?” Lac’s face scrunched in confusion, but the Mr. Handy had already begun to propel away, humming a slightly distorted version of the Star Spangled Banner from corroded speakers. Lac frowned after him, but settled down onto the couch instead of following. She would have to take him into town to get him looked at. She could troubleshoot the basic problems, but that interaction had been downright spooky. Maybe they would throw in a free chrome buff to make it worth the drive. She wondered if they were still having that special that had been advertised in the commercials. Turning on the television, she watched the screen flicker to life and the loud voice of the newscaster blare through the living room._

_“Today comes with a rather high percentage of rain, folks! Those green clouds are billowing in at an alarming rate, so unless you want your Geiger counter to start tap-dancing, it’s best you find shelter.” The dapper voice of the newscaster was always so shocking coming out of the fang filled mouth of the monster on camera. Lac never could understand why they replaced Jimmy Daily with such an unappealing creature as a deathclaw. And his makeup and wardrobe staff should be fired! The orange plaid suit they picked clashed horribly with his scales, for Christ’s sake! “Now on to the local news! It seems that raiders have all but taken over-”_

_The television blinked off and Lac could practically feel Nora’s distaste from where she was sitting. “How many times have I told you that television is bad for little Shaun and that we need to set a good example.” Nora tutted, “Besides, there is nothing ever good on anyways. Just gloom and doom, and you know how that affects Nate.”_

_Lac turned to give Nora a properly sassy reply, but froze when she saw a streak of red trailing down from her partner’s forehead. Vaulting over the couch before she even processed moving, coffee flying from her hand in haste, Lac cradled Nora’s face in her hands to examine the wound more closely._

_“Shit, Nora! You’re bleeding! Did you hit your head on something?”_

_“Language!” Nora fussed, not seeming to recognize that she was hurt. “I thought we agreed that you would tamp that down for Shaun.”_

_“You are fucking bleeding from your head and you are worried about Shaun hearing an F-bomb?!” Lac hissed incredulously. It was ridiculous and so very Nora-like all at the same time. She heard Nate chuckle as he came down the hall to join them._

_“You expect anything less from our Nora?” He questioned, his voice brittle and crackling as the ice that covered his body. Blue lips quirked up in a smile that made Lac’s heart constrict. “She is a mother through and through. Better watch out before she goes mother-bear on you, although to listen to Jenkinsons’ talk, that is firmly your department.”_

_Lac couldn’t speak, not finding breath nor thought enough to form proper words. Bright green eyes darted between two pairs of clouded blue, eyes that were long past seeing the physical world, and Lac felt a cold ball of dread settle heavily in her gut. Nate slings a frozen arm around Nora’s shoulders and Lac watches in panicked horror as a crackling blanket of frost grows from the point of contact to envelope Nora’s body. Lac’s lungs burned as she stumbles backward into the back of the couch. A broken gasp of air, sounding too close to a sob for her liking, shuddered through her chest. She couldn’t breathe._

_“No.” The choked sound that escaped her mouth was most definitely a sob now and Lac hated crying. “No, no, no, no, NO!”_

_The last came out a scream and she rushed forward, twirling past Nate’s concerned grab for her and Nora’s worried cry. Lac’s eyes burned and blurred with building tears, but she blinked them away as she raced down the hallway. She needed to grab Shaun and get out of here. Her partners might be past saving, but god be damned if she was going to let whatever was going wrong affect her child. She may not have carried Shaun for nine months and may not be the perfect mother figure that was Nora, but they shared the same DNA and she still had all her maternal instincts yelling at her to save her baby at all costs. Grabbing the handle to Shaun’s room, Lac wrenched back the door with too much strength, feeling the door groan against the tracks and rebound slightly as it hit the backstop. She ignored the jarring as it came back to hit her hand, ignored the concerned voices of her partners from down the hallway, ignored everything except her goal. She stepped into the room-_

_Hazel brown eyes look up to glance at her, the flare of a struck match casting them in a flickering orange glow. The man smirked, the long scar cutting through his left eye pulling the skin grotesquely at the expression. Lac felt her heart seize and the air leave her body in a great whoosh. This man. She knew this man and he sent shockwaves of terror quaking through her entire body. The man turned his back to her, as if she posed no threat to him. In all honesty, she couldn’t even think, much less move, so he wasn’t too far off the mark. Instead, he turned to a metal pod-like structure and peeked through the window. A hollow thunking sound reverberated through the room as he tapped the pod before moving back to let a white-suited figure approach._

_“This is the one, here.” The suit spoke, the voice distinctly female._

_The man looked back at the figure expectantly and when nothing was forthcoming, he growled, “Open it.”_

_“No!” Lac screamed, her body tensing with dread. Opening the pod was bad. She didn’t know what would happen, but it would be bad. She had to stop them!_

_Swift fingers in gloved hands danced across controls on the panel beside the pod and soon the door to the pod hissed and swung upward. The door was gone. In its place was Nora, coughing and clutching their child. She had carried him as they ran, trying to quiet his crying. He was crying now. There were words, her partner speaking between fitful breathes, then panic. Nora was in trouble. Lac reacted, moving to intercept the fight, but glass was in her way and she was forced to watch through her frosty window as Shaun was ripped from Nora’s arms by the white-clad woman. She pounded her fists on the glass, yelling for them to leave her family alone, but the glass and the strangers were equally unmoved. Her yelling was cut off as a gunshot rang out, echoing through the small room. Nora looked shocked. Her lips trembled minutely as the last of her will left and she collapsed backward to slump against the cushioned pod interior._

_The man, the murderer, turned back to Lac, leaning in to peer at her through the ice and breath-fogged glass. “At least we have a backup.”_

_Six words._

_They were innocent enough, without context. God only knows how many times she or her partners had used similar phrases when they purchased the wrong part or broke a dish. Maybe that was why they were so hard to swallow . Why the y sizzled through her nerves like acid._

_Those six little words hit her with enough impact to rival the bombs that destroyed her world just minutes before. They razed her soul to the very center of her being… and yet gave her enough will to survive the destruction of her world. Rage boiled, spilling over the fear and despair until it threatened to explode. It needed out and she was more than willing to give it free reign to unleash hell on this asshole. She lashed out, growling as her fist connected with the glass and not the man’s face. She pounded on the glass until red smeared the glass, obscuring her view, and still she raged at the man who dared to hurt her family. His response was a smirk._

_If she could have formed words, she would offer him the vilest threats, the bloodiest of promises as to what he could expect when she found him, but nothing more than animalistic snarls made it past her lips. Words had been swept up in the fire of emotions, consuming them until nothing but instinct and fury remained. Yet, he nodded at her as if he understood what she meant. They shared the same language, a language born of blood, fear, and bottomless rage. The man reached out of view and fiddled with something and Lac heard a mechanical voice speak behind her. She couldn’t make out the words, or perhaps doing so would use energy and attention better suited to staring down the man in front of her, so she ignored them. She did notice the drop in temperature and red-tinged ice beginning to creep up the glass, narrowing her view into the room. A primal scream, a wordless promise, escaped through teeth clenched from the cold, and the view through the ice was the man saluting her mockingly in response._

 

   Lac jerked awake, choking on air that couldn’t reach her lungs fast enough. She felt lightheaded, quivering limbs too heavy and stiff to do much beyond clutch the mildewed sleeping bag she had been curled up in. As air flooded back into her lungs in stinging gasps and her body began to respond to her commands, a renewed wave of panic made her shirk the damp material away violently. Everything was too much and it hurt. She didn’t want to be touched and it was too damned hot! She thrashed out of her sleeping bag until she stood trembling in the middle of the room. Lac wrapped her arms around herself as if she could physically hold herself together, but such illusions rarely worked. A traitorous sob slipped out, quickly followed by a keening wail she couldn’t hold back. The seal had been broken and it would all come pouring out until she had nothing left to give, just like every time before.

   A soft wuffle of warm breath on her skin broke into her realm of reality. It was followed by a soft whine and a drawn out whimper of canine concern as something furry nuzzled gently against her legs. Lac bit back a scream and scrambled away from the source of the noise, cramming herself to fit into the corner of the room pressed between the wall and a dresser. Splinters pierced her arms and jutting metal dug into her back, but it was tight and safe. The whiningpaused, then repeated more urgently. The soft clack of claws on flooring sounded the creature’s approach and caused Lac to retreat further into her corner, but it was a cold nose and cautious snout that investigated her hunched form rather than the teeth she expected. The touch was…not unpleasant. She held still with baited breath for the creature to turn on her, but all it did was huff quietly and curl up in front of her.

    After time passed without incident, Lac began to uncurl and even placed her hand cautiously on the animal before her. Her touch was rewarded with a contented sigh and a slight thump of the animal’s tail. Gathering her courage, she pet the creature more surely. The beast humphed happily and scooted closer to her until it practically laid in her lap. Lac let her mind focus on the soft fur and heavy warmth and soon found the panic slipping away to more manageable levels as her mind recognized the animal before her.. The dog in her lap looked up at her and licked a loving swipe up her face. She laughed brokenly, the tattered sounds of despair still having ravaged her vocal cords. She hugged the dog close to her and buried her face in her friend’s thick fur. She always had liked dogs, especially the bigger breeds like the German Shepard she clung to now. She had spent years trying to convince her partners they should adopt a dog to watch the house, and though Nate was on board…

  Nate. The image of Nate’s frozen body flashed unbidden in her mind. After she had escaped her own pod, she had opened those of her partners. She had known what to expect with Nora’s. Her lover’s delicate features frozen in surprise at the thin line of red that ran down her face from the ragged hole in her forehead. Nate’s body though, his had been a gruesome shock. His bronzed skin had been washed pale, his blue eyes glassy as they bulged in panic, his fingers clawed and bloody in front of him. He must have tried to claw his way out before he suffocated. The other pods had all shown her similar pictures of terror and the lost fight for survival. Lac hadn’t wanted to look at them, the corpses of the people she once knew, but she had made herself investigate each pod. She had to know. If there were any other survivors…no. On some level she knew she was a fluke. She had wanted, needed even, to see the bodies for a different reason. Each death was another tally against the scarred man and she blamed him for each and every death she saw in the Vault. But it was all one big joke, wasn’t it? The underground haven meant for salvation, twisted by corrupt minds and blasphemous science, finally turned to the house of horror she saw before her by a nameless man she swore to put down. They likely all would have died eventually anyway, but he just had to come speed up the process. Her body once again began to shake with the intensity of her anger, but her dog nuzzled his snout into her hair and licked under her ear until she returned to the present.

 

“Hey, buddy.” She croaked, “It’s okay. I’m alright. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

   He whined and wiggled in her lap, practically screaming at her to focus on him instead of getting lost in her head. She laughed, then frowned at how rusty it had sounded in the quiet of the room. Instead of analyzing it, she concentrated on the feel of her fingers running through her dog’s fur. It was an easy sensation to lose herself in and was surprisingly enjoyable. She had never been a big fan of all the touchy-feely crap women were expected to express, but she had always enjoyed the company of animals. At least some things hadn’t changed.

    The clanging of a bell outside made Lac jump, reflexively clutching her dog closer to her. He allowed it briefly, then began to squirm free of her grip. Realizing she was probably holding on a little too tightly, she released her death grip and watched him as he padded over to the door. With an encouraging bark, the dog trotted out of the room. Lac blinked but otherwise stayed motionless. He left, but looked happy and at ease. There was nothing to fear outside. That thought made her snort harshly, but she also understood the dog’s guidance.

    For the first time since she woke, Lac looked about and actually registered the room around her. The walls were worn and exposed the framework in quite a few places. The ceiling was partially collapsed, but haphazardly repaired to keep the elements out. There were no pictures, but a tattered flag draped drunkenly against one wall, sagging in the middle as if there weren’t enough tacks to spare to keep it straight. The furniture had seen better times, with patches making up more material than the original on the couch and the dresser having a medley of mismatched drawers. The overall feeling of the room was ‘apocalypse homestead’, and not in a good way. Yet there was a familiarity to the room that niggled at Lac’s mind, urging her to look closer. The dirty off-white paint with blue wallpaper lining the bottom, the horrid yellow brown remains of checkered drapes, the blue rocket ship rug centered in the room. It was all disturbingly recognizable, if rundown.

 

This room, it was her baby’s room. Pain bloomed bright in Lac’s chest and she rose to tottering feet. Moving sluggishly, she stumbled out of the room into the remains of her house in Sanctuary Hills. The entire interior matched the aesthetic of Shaun’s room; dilapidated, but under repair. Her feet carried her to the kitchen window and she leaned heavily on the sill as she took in her neighborhood through a glassless window. The grass was brown and dead, dry scorched earth breaking through the once green foliage in quite a few places. Tall, skinny trees dot the once pristine yards. Broken picket fences outline the remains of property lines like jagged teeth reaching toward the fog that hangs above the fallen rooftops. What houses haven’t fallen into giant scrapheaps look ready to crumble in on themselves at a particularly strong sneeze. Yet she remembered braving them to look for anything useful, tensing at every groan the failing support beams gave. Yet, signs of repair were also present on some of the buildings. New life breathed into old bones.

 Voices rose in a soft murmur outside, no doubt in response to the bell from earlier. She knew those voices too, but the memory was newer. The sharp, bitter tones of Marcy contrasted Jun’s soft submission, his words always eager to form an apology. She was able to identify them before they came into view, Marcy’s bristling figure seeming to tower over her hunched husband as he cringed inward both physically and mentally. The slow croak of chastisement coming from an abused throat was Mama Murphey, her words always long and drawn out as if she took extra care to make sure they came out right, if vague and hazy. Lac had grown used to hearing such speech immediately after Nate came back from the war, when he took enough Calmex to supply a psych ward just to make it through the week without breaking down. But Mama Murphey was calm and sure, secret knowledge and compassion coloring her speech rather than the panic and repressed trauma that bled into Nate’s.

 The nostalgic twang of a cocky southern accent distracted Lac, as it was uncommon here in Boston, and she refocused in time to see the owner of the accent as he swaggered into view, Mama Murphey on his supportive arm. She still had yet to figure out where Sturges had grown up to have developed such a thick drawl. She would have asked him, but didn’t for fear that her questions would lead to questions from her new companions in return. She couldn’t handle their concern, the sadness and empathy that would shape their faces as they reached out to comfort her, so she had nipped it in the bud. She had offered little information when she had first rescued them and all subsequent inquiries had been met with flat stares until they learned to give her space. All except Preston.

 

She frowned at his confident figure as he herded the group of settlers toward the neighboring house they had set up into a kitchen/cafeteria. That man was a veritable angel fallen to earth and it made her want to scream. He went out of his way to be kind to her, to make sure everyone around him was alright and healthy and protected. While a normal person would have happily fallen in his comforting embrace and let him look after them, Lac put as much space between her and the man as possible. He was a protector, a shield between those he wanted to protect and the bad things the world threw at them. Worse, he didn’t ask anything from them in return. Preston had attempted to draw Lac into the fold, to take her burdens and give her a shoulder to cry on, but she had backed away so fast it visibly left him confused. He still tried though. He was friendly and polite, always taking the time to acknowledge her and invite her into his little family. It sent up just about every red flag Lac had in her screwy little mind.

 As if her thoughts were broadcast over the radio, Preston looked up and saw her. He waved a greeting with his signature smile before jerking his thumb over toward the cafeteria, the question clear. Lac tamed the scowl threatening to cover her face into a mere frown and shook her head stiffly. Instead of letting her refusal bring him down, Preston merely shrugged with a ‘what-can-you-do’ smile and continued on his merry way. Lac watched his retreating back warily. Hypothesis proven: Preston was really an angel. It was almost enough to make her feel bad about repeatedly pushing him away. Lac slumped down the wall beside her with a huff and rested her head against the metal of the window sill. She couldn’t even hate the man for it. He was just too  _ _good__ , and it threw her off. She didn’t trust him.

 That drew an unladylike snort from her.  _ _Trust Issues__  the therapists told her, the capital letters apparent even when they spoke the words. She wouldn’t let herself trust anyone except her partners, they had reported over again and again. And that had been before the End of the World!

 

* * *

 

    Lac stayed in Sanctuary just long enough to make it survivable for the group of refugees who had followed her back home. She hadn’t wanted to share her space with them, not at first, but after seeing their empty stares and broken spirits, she couldn’t let them remain victims without any hope. So she had warily accepted their offer to travel with them and allowed them take up residence in the houses once belonging to her neighbors. She made it clear early on that her old house was off limits, though she never offered any explanation beyond a guarded stare through the tinted goggles of her gasmask. The only one to complain after that was Marcy (typical), but a growled offer to find her a bed at the bottom of the river quickly cut that short. The two women didn’t have to like one another, so Lac made it clear that she would tolerate Marcy as long as the bitter woman kept her snark reigned in. There could only be one Queen Bitch here and Lac had claimed that title long ago with a little over two centuries worth of practice to back it up.

    Surprisingly enough, Lac did find herself enjoying the company of two of the rescued settlers. Mama Murphey was an instant favorite. Carefree, open-minded without needling in return, and just mysterious enough to intrigue Lac, she quickly grew into a grandmotherly role for the prewar woman. If her grandmother had ever been strung out on an assortment of drugs and a borderline psychic, that is. Lac only wished she could have been so fortunate. And the stories Mama Murphey spun were amazing! They always made her bite back laughter and Lac was sure that at least a good three-fourths were Jet-induced hallucinations, but they were presented with such flair that she found herself drawn to Mama Murphey’s chair every evening for another adventure down fantasy lane. The elderly woman even helped identify the drugs Lac had picked up, explaining the benefits and side effects of each and how to properly use them. Lac quickly pocketed the ones that might prove useful and then separated the rest according to price and availability. At Mama Murphey’s lustful gaze, Lac slipped a few choice selections into her withered hands with a wink and a finger against her lips. It would be their little secret. Mama Murphey’s smile of appreciation could have rivaled spring itself as it bloomed beatifically across her worn face.

    The other new resident of Sanctuary she found herself drawn to was Sturges, surprisingly enough. Lac had little doubt it was the familiar drawl that simultaneously tore open her soul and lifted her spirits. In a weird way, he sounded like home even as he spoke about things that went beyond her understanding in this new world after the bombs. She hadn’t realized she missed the southern twang, the slow accent that seemed to draw out vowels and left spaces by the wayside. She had grown up in the deep south and while there were many things about the area that she had been glad to leave behind, it had still been the home of her childhood. Nothing compared to hot Texan nights, camping under the stars and practically becoming a stray every summer exploring the vast woods of the eastern border of the state. She had learned basic survival there, when the closest adult was miles away and she was surrounded with wildlife more than willing and able to kill her in minutes. Yet she had never felt more free. His voice revived the memories of such days and part of her regretted moving North in those moments. Her accent was one of the first things she had to change after the move, for everyone who heard it imagined her to be an uneducated backwater hick. Now that it graced her ears again, it took everything she had to keep her own accent from rising from the grave, and the few times she wasn’t quick enough to hold it back left surprise painting Sturges’ face. Not wanting to explain, she often found excuses to ditch the conversation after such slips before scurrying away to distract herself (she refused to call it hiding).

    One such distraction was proving to be sleep. It was growing harder to stay awake now that she wasn’t fighting for her life. While she still had plenty of work to do to make the area suitable for settlers, but it was tedious and monotonous work. She could easily do it with only half a mind, which proved to be a bad thing. Lac could only spend so much time planning out what should go where for prime defensibility before her mind grew bored and tired. She often found herself bugging Sturges to teach her to build more complex machines and intricate defenses. Soon, Sanctuary boasted four large generators, enough laser turrets to make an army station jealous, and an immense water purifier with working duct system to provide three separate houses with running water. It certainly seemed to impress the ragtag members of Sanctuary, but Lac once again found her energy levels flagging. She needed to get out of here before she found herself falling into a downward spiral of sleep and depression.

 

   Unsurprisingly it was Codsworth who first found her packing her gear. She had been rolling everything that might prove useful into a bulging pack when she heard the tale-tell hum of his propulsion engine coming down the hallway. He was the only one allowed to come into her home besides Dogmeat (which she vehemently refused to him to his face. What a rude name for a dog!), so she wasn’t surprised to hear him whisk through the open doorway moments later. At his mechanical gasp, she prepared herself for the emotional outburst she was no doubt going to receive as soon as he gathered his programmed wits about him.

 

“Well, I say!” He exclaimed, his British accent thicker with emotion, “Are you planning on going somewhere, mum? I was just starting to get used to seeing your familiar face about the neighborhood, but I suppose that it is time for a change of scenery. What do you say, should we ‘hit the road’ together? Just the two of us? Young Master Shaun is still in need of us, after all.”

   Lac squeezed her eyes shut at the ‘us’ and fought down the guilt she felt tearing through her chest. “Actually, Codsworth,” she began, “I need you to stay here for now.”

 

“What was that, mum?” Codsworth hummed cheerfully, the 200 years of isolation peeking through. “I think my audio processors malfunctioned there for a moment. Surely you don’t plan on leaving by yourself. The last time you ventured out on your own you came back half eaten by a horrible beast straight out of legend! Surely you don’t mean to have a repeat performance!”

    Her hand reflexively cupped the tender wounds now decorating her right side. She was quickly forming a veritable collection of vicious scars, ranging from the pale frost patterned splotches extending from her left side of her forehead and face down to her hip, to the more recent souvenirs that slashed across her midriff to curl of the right side of her back from the latest episode of  _ _When Deathclaws Attack!__  Never mind the fact that she had been decked out in a full set of power armor when she had faced it. The monster had peeled the reinforced steel plating back like it was a sardine can and she was the tasty treat hidden inside. She was lucky that she had been able to raise the minigun in time, bashing it across its face enough to dislodge it and give herself enough time to crawl out from beneath its massive scaly body before shoving the revolving barrels in the creature’s jaws and letting it spin. It had still taken the entire drum of ammo to kill the damned thing, even when pumping lead directly into its brain, and she wondered if it had some kind of redundant nervous system that managed to kick on when the first was blown to smithereens. She hoped to never be able to test that theory.

 

“No,” She finally replied, “I would rather skip that particular performance. But I do need to go find Shaun.” Sighing, she turned to fix her trusty robot with a sad stare. “While I do that, I need you here to help turn this place into a home for us. I can’t very well bring back my baby to live in a half-collapsed house with the very basic of primitive functions. I need Sanctuary to be a home for us, and honestly, you are the only one I can count on to make that happen.”

    The Mr. Handy hovered motionlessly for a moment, then let out a wail and flew at her. She managed to catch him just in time as her barreled into her arms and ‘cried’ in her embrace.

 

Oh, mum! It’s just been horrible!” He confided, finally breaking the feigned cheerful manner he had adopted since my return. “Two centuries with no one to talk to, no one to serve! I thought for certain that you and your family were…dead. But now!” he let out a small hiccup and Lac gently patted his metal body, unsure of how to properly calm a distressed robot. He didn’t seem to mind her lack of knowledge as he sniffed and back away enough to pin her with three swiveling irises. “Now I have a purpose again! There are people who require my assistance and I can once again serve you and the young Master when he finally returns home. It is the light at the end of a very long tunnel, and I am most grateful that you returned.”

 “I’m happy to see you again, too, Codsworth.” Lac reply with a soft smile. “I don’t know what I would do without my faithful Mr. Handy watching the home front for me while I’m away.”

 “Right-o, mum!” Codsworth hailed happily. “You go out and find young Shaun and you can count on me to have this place looking right as rain when you return. I was programmed to be exemplary at every cleaning task, you know! You won’t regret your purchase!”

    A laugh escaped her lips as Lac patted the robot with an affectionate smile. She had no idea who the intended audience of that particular pep talk was for, but it didn’t really matter. Codsworth had suffered just as much as she had, if not more. She was suddenly very grateful that he had managed to survive the hell that had taken root above ground during her time in the Vault. She found herself doubting her decision to leave him behind, but a quick flash of him from her reoccurring nightmares solidified her plan of action. She loved the quirky robot, but the past and the horrors it brought with it were still too fresh in her mind. Better to face the future with new companions rather than put her life in the hands of someone who constantly haunted her dreams. Unable to tell him the real reasons for her temporary abandonment, she smiled at his conviction and nodded along. It was easier when she was the only person feeling like shit about leaving him behind.

    She left Codsworth cleaning the kitchen with a surprising amount of gusto as she continued her efforts to finish packing. She decided that she would check in with Sturges to make sure there weren’t any last minute repairs to make and then swing by to say goodbye to Mama Murphey. Breaking down, she also admitted it might be a good idea to check in with Preston to let him know there would be one less person on the watch roster. Not that she was good at keeping watch to begin with (it was much too boring and after the third time Jun had found her asleep at her post, Preston had given her day shifts with a weary sigh), but any pair of eyes was better than none. Making up her mind, she visited the angel-in-disguise first in order to get it out of the way. Heading to the lookout post by the bridge, she spotted his familiar figure guarding the gated entrance to the new settlement.

 

“Garvey!” She called out, making sure her voice held no sign of tension. He snapped to attention anyway, laser musket ready at any sign of potential danger as he spun to face her. She gave him the ‘no danger’ sign, crossing her forearms high above her head, and he lowered his musket carefully. Now safely out of danger of friendly fire, Lac jogged over to his position to avoid shouting her intentions to the entire bloody settlement. They were a bunch of gossips for being so small a group.

 “Ma’am” He greeted evenly, polite to a fault. Lac repressed an eye roll and faced him with an easy, relaxed stance.

 “Hey Garvey, I just wanted to let you know that I need to head out for a while. I don’t exactly know how long I will be gone, but I plan on swinging by Diamond City and picking up some materials I haven’t been able to scavenge.” Her excuse wasn’t even a lie. Mama Murphey had already revealed that answers lay in the mysterious Great Green Jewel. She did also need to pick up a few materials the caravan trader by the unfortunate, if accurate, handle of ‘Trashcan Carla’ said she could find in the large settlement. Carla had even been so helpful as to provide rough directions and even pointed out its general location on Lac’s Pipboy map when it became clear that the Vaultie had as much directional sense as her dog. Scrap that, less than her dog. Now that she thought of it, Dogmeat had been the one to direct her to and through Concord. Well, that was a depressing thought.

 

“Are you sure?” Preston questioned, his doubtful tone snapping Lac out of her thoughts. “You are still pretty green from the looks of it and the Commonwealth is a dangerous place. Not to mention that a sea of raiders and supermutants lay between here and Diamond City. Do you want me to come with you?”

    Lac barely fought back a shiver at the offer. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll have Dogmeat with me!” she assured him. “Besides, one of us leaving will be hard enough on Sanctuary, much less both of us. You should be here to keep those assholes from mounting a counter attack. I will do what I can when I pass through to keep their numbers down enough to hinder them. If all goes well, I will be out and back before you know it! Hopefully without any new scars this time!”

    He raised an eyebrow at her chipper tone, but didn’t comment on it. Lac was grateful, but she still felt bad for avoiding him for so long. Truth was, she could only take so much ‘pure’ within a day before she started poking the proverbial lion to get a reaction she could understand. The need had driven Nora crazy, and she had liked Nora from the beginning. She wouldn’t put Preston through that, not with everything he had just experienced.

 

“Alright,” he sighed, giving in finally. “I will keep watch here, but you need to be careful out there. It’s dangerous to even seasoned veterans and it will eat someone like you alive given half a chance. Make sure to follow Dogmeat close and listen to his warnings. He will keep you safe. And don’t let them swindle you in Diamond City, alright. Carla gave you a basic outline of caps and the scrap value?”

 

“Yep.” Lac bit out evenly, trying  _ _very__  hard not to take offense that he trusted her dog to do a better job of ensuring her survival than herself. The added unintentional insult of her being a victim of greedy merchants was barely tolerable. Yes, she admitted she had lacking knowledge, which was exactly why she had asked Carla for the basics, damn it! Seeming to sense her deteriorating mood, Preston nodded to her.

  “You be safe out there and come back in one piece. I hope you find what you are looking for.”

 

    Lac returned the nod with one of her own and turned back toward the settlement to find more tolerable company, only to hear Preston let out an “Oh!”, as if he remembered something he had wanted to address with her. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw his hand half reached to clasp her shoulder. She stepped deftly out of range before turning to face him fully.

 “Yes?”

 “Uh, well…I just have a quick favor to ask, if you are headed south.” His voice was bashful, as if he couldn’t bring himself to ask yet another favor of her. Lac shrugged. She had already helped them with this much. What was one more to add to the list.

 “There is are a few small farms, just slightly out of your way, Abernathy Farm and Tempine Bluff. There have been reports of them looking for Minutemen aid, but seeing as I am the last of the Minutemen, I’d really appreciate it if you could swing by and check on them. It shouldn’t be anything too difficult, and you can always just tell me what they want and I can help them when you get back-” His words came faster until at the end there was barely a breath taken. Lac held up a hand to stop him before he forgot how to breathe entirely.

“I’ll look into it.” She accepted smoothly. He paused, expecting an elaboration as to what ‘looking into it’ would entail, but as Lac herself didn’t know he would just have to be satisfied with what he got. In it became clear that that was all the answer he would get, Preston nodded with a smile.

“Thanks for all your help. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t have shown up.”

 

   Lac simply shrugged again and wandered off before he could rope her into any more of his rescue plans. While she had no idea what was causing these settlements to reach out for aid from an organization that was on the verge of extinction from internal struggles, she highly doubted it would make the list of ‘nothing too difficult’. That man was really too naïve sometimes, and that was coming from a pre-war woman who had never pointed a gun at someone before a few weeks ago. Not for the first time, Lac wondered just what she was getting herself into.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you are getting a bit of a taste for Lac's personality/issues/etc and she is far from perfect, but I think that's why I like her character so much. And I am sorry to any Preston fans out there. He is just TOO nice and that bothers me just a tad. I think it came out in this chapter. I hope you still enjoyed the chapter though!
> 
> Edited 2/8/18: still hate proofreading. Bear with me peeps!
> 
> As always, please comment and tell me how I am doing. I am still pretty new at this and any critique/advise goes a long way! Thank you guys so much for reading! LAD out!
> 
> (Note: none of these characters are mine. I just play with them. Please continue to not sue me!)


	3. Cities and Subways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After deciding to head to Diamond City, Lacuna meets some interesting people and discovers she needs to rescue the very person who is supposed to help her. A woman just has to do everything herself!

  The faint music of yelling raiders and ever-present gunfire was one of the first things Lac had get used to upon reentering Boston’s city proper. She had grown familiar with the empty expanse of stunted flora while answering the call of the two settlements Preston had asked her to check up on. Clearing out raiders and ferals from old manufacturing plants was a cakewalk when compared to the constant vigilance the city required. It seemed as if every other building held a collection of raiders, a battalion of Gunners, a gaggle of supermutants, etc., etc., and the list goes on. By the time Lac was close enough to recognize the towering walls of the stadium, she had already stuffed her bags full to bursting with looted prizes and had a variety of weaponry slung precariously across her shoulders and strapped to her bag. She had adopted the tested and true practice of taking everything that was not nailed down and would break down the scrap at the benches she found scattered about in bases she cleared to make some items small enough to fit into her pack. The armor and weapons she spruced up enough to make them sellable and she had even begun to toss the poorest equipment aside to make room for the higher priced items. She might have little working knowledge about the cap system, but she was always a sucker for a deal and her teenage years working in sales meant she could sell you your own mother for a decent price given enough time and charm.

   She only hoped those skills still applied in a market of the size rumored to be in Diamond City. She had even heard that there was a doctor running a clinic there. Lac felt a thrill of hope course through her and she doubled her pace. Dogmeat bounded ahead of her happily, enjoying the game of Hide-and-Seek he played with the raiders. She almost felt bad for the raiders, who were often unaware they were participants in the dog’s deadly little game. The two of them had developed a fighting style that worked ridiculously well for one of the duo being an animal. Dogmeat would signal danger, they would sneak close and Lac would settle into a position with a nice covered view, and then Dogmeat would barrel into the group of enemies. His role was to pin down her targets and distract the others from her position. She would use the enhanced focus her Pipboy granted her to pick off the enemies before they could harm her dog. It was a brilliant strategy and worked the majority of the time. Yet, when the pair accidentally stumbled into a nest of super mutants, all bets were off.

   Lac was nursing a limp from that blunder and she had used three stimpacks on Dogmeat just to keep him breathing after one of the giant green brutes had played a morbid version of football with him. She had taken gruesome delight in blowing that mutant’s head to an unidentifiable, pulpy mess. No one kicked her dog and lived. She wondered how many more times she would have to share that lesson with the Commonwealth before they finally wizened up. Luckily, the stimpacks had left Dogmeat good as new and a thick radstag steak had finished the job so that he was in better shape than she was at the moment. That was quite alright in her book, as he acted as her guide and early alert system. If he could get her to those gates, she had no qualms with spoiling him rotten. She hobbled along behind his energetic figure, using one of the poorer quality pipe rifles as a cane to ease the pressure on her leg. She just hoped those gates were close.

 

   An hour later, she spotted the first sign. Poor, child-like handwriting in dripping paint pointed the quickest route to Diamond City, which seemed to be located in or next to Fenway Stadium. She had never personally been inside the stadium, as no one in their household was a fan of baseball (as unpatriotic as that sounded), but she couldn’t help but wonder how they fit an entire settlement in a stadium. Was it really so large or was the grandiose of the place exaggerated by people unfamiliar with the extravagance and excess that permeated the previous culture? Lac shrugged sloppily; she would find out soon enough. She followed Dogmeat as he pranced around each sign on the path. At one point, she came across a group of men in appropriated umpire’s-uniforms-turned-armor fighting a band of supermutants holed up in a hollowed building. When they didn’t start shooting at her as well, she figured they might be the first friendly faces she encountered on her journey. Or at least neutral unless provoked. Lac paused, then hunkered down with a grumble to pop off a few shots of her own. The skirmish was over quickly and she stood before they could talk to her. She waved off their shouted thanks and picked her way over to the mutants. A quick scavenge left her with basic weapons and a single decent piece of armor. She left the boards and random bones they always seemed to carry on them where they lay. It always freaked her out that they carried pieces of their victims on them, ready for a snack at any given moment. She was glad her stomach had strengthened in the time since exiting the Vault.

   With her new prizes, Lac continued on her way. The growing number of uniformed humans (guards?) led her to speculate that she was getting closer to the gates. Sure enough, she rounded a bend and came face to …well, gate with the massive stadium. The entrance alone was large enough to pass three trucks through with room to spare. Yet, the shutters were tightly closed with a tiny speck of an intercom looking to be the only source of communication with those inside the impenetrable walls. There also happened to be a woman currently yelling into the speaker. Lac was tempted to hang back, but Dogmeat loped forward without a care in the world and Lac was forced to join him or get left behind. As she neared the gate, she began to distinguish the words of the woman’s tirade.

 

“What do you mean you can’t open the gate? Stop playing around, Danny! I’m standing out in the open here, for crying out loud!”

   The woman’s voice swung from exasperated, to nervous, to full blown pissed in under four seconds and she jabbed her finger at the intercom box as if it had personally caused all her problems. It was enough to impress Lac. She pitied the poor soul at the controls.

“I got orders not to let you in, Ms. Piper.” The man’s voice that rattled through the speaker sounded suitable chastised, adding “I’m sorry Ms. Piper. I’m just doing my job.”

“’Just doing your job?’ Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it?” Piper’s tone was dripping venom now, her sarcasm sharp enough to slice through the gate if it didn’t open soon. “‘Oh look, it’s the scary reporter!’ Boo!”

 

   Lac tensed at the mention of ‘reporter’. Reporters were nosy, always getting into trouble and ferreting through secrets. In her experience, too many reporters who had reported the wrong thing ended up ‘missing’ or ‘moved on’ for her comfort. The few personal encounters Lac had with reporters ended poorly, the journalists writing down hidden notes in their little books and digging for information that was better left untouched. They had practically flocked around their house when Nate had returned home, eagerly awaiting self-entitled interviews with one of the heroes of Anchorage. It had taken round-the-clock police surveillance and Lac personally greeting everyone who sneaked by with a shotgun and a wicked smile for them to get the clue. The final publications had hinted that perhaps Lac should have been recruited in addition to Nate. Nora hadn’t found that line particularly funny. Lac’s gut was proven right when Danny’s words crackled out.

“I’m sorry, but Mayor McDonough’s really steamed, Piper. Sayin’ that article you wrote was all lies. The whole city’s in a tizzy.”

“ARGH!” Piper vented, kicking the intercom stand, then proceeded to adopt a firm ‘listen to your mother or shit will go down’ tone Lac knew well. “You open this gate right now, Danny Sullivan! I live here! You can’t just lock me out.”

   Silence greeted her rant and Piper let out a weary sigh. Combing fingers through her dark hair, she finally caught sight of Lac and straightened her cap with a devious smile tugging her lips. “You.” She called in a stage whisper, nodding when Lac looked around and pointed to herself, “Yeah, you. You want into Diamond City, right?”

   Lac opened her mouth to reply, but Piper hushed her before she could get a word in edgewise. “Shh! Play along.” Turning back to the speaker, Piper called out in an act that would win her no awards at the Emmys, “What was that? You’re a trader up from Quincy?”

   Piper’s voice turned even more ‘impressed’ even as Lac could feel confusion pinch her face. “You have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a whole month?! Huh. You hear that Danny? You gonna open the gate and let us in or are you going to be the one talking to crazy Myrna about losing out on all the supply?”

   Lac couldn’t help but stare at the woman in disbelief. Surely she didn’t think the boy would fall-

“Geez, alright! No need to make it personal, Piper. Give me a minute.”

 

   Insane. They were all insane and Lac was willingly walking into their nest of crazy of her own accord. She slapped her forehead and rubbed at her temples through the hood in trepidation. What was she getting herself into? Before the gate was fully raised, Lac ducked under it, hoping to put as much distance between herself and the reporter as possible. If the other woman was going to get caught in her lie, Lac was sure as shit not going to be with her, no matter how good she looked in that jacket. Unfortunately, she stood up just in time to see a cluster of guards and a porky man dressed in a suit scramble to form a line in front of the gate. So much for disassociation.

“Piper! Who let you back inside? I thought I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut!” The Official barked. Lac had little doubt that was what he was. Only those who thought they had some type of god-given authority held themselves like they were above the masses, even in a dump like this. Some things never change and Lac made sure to keep the disgust off her face.

 

   Lac slunk back toward the shadows at the edge of the room as the Official and the reporter started scrapping in a dance as old as time. Dogmeat led the way around the commotion, but when she tried to duck around the line of guards, she found herself faced with a quirked eyebrow above dark-tinted glasses and a smirk to match. The guard shook his head in rebuke, or was it amusement, but continued to block her path either way. She sent him a glare that should have set fire to the blood in his veins, but only made the smirk grow larger. Dogmeat took one look back at the brewing storm that threatened to develop behind his mistress and continued on his way into the settlement. That bastard! She was contemplating if she could squeeze past him quietly or just abandon her secrecy and barrel through their line when she heard a question pitched to address her.

“What?” She asked, more out of habit than actual desire to get dragged into the argument.

“Do you support free speech?” Piper repeated, her body language clearly highlighting what her answer should be. “The  _ _Mayor__  here is threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster. So, are you with us or not?”

 

   Free speech? Was she kidding? The commonwealth was so run down that theymost settlements couldn’t manage decent plumbing, but here they worried about free speech? Lac once again bemoaned the loss of modern technology and the ass-backward chaos these people had adopted before pinning her gaze on the snippy pair. She might not like reporters, but at least they sought truth. She had always hated politicians and the manner in which they somehow supported their own personal agenda over the needs of the people was obvious in the quality of the man’s suit and the cleanliness of his skin when everyone else was dirt-smudged and stunk to high heaven. Yup, she still hated politicians.

“Always believed in freedom of the press.” She answered with a shrug. She didn’t always support how the truth was dug up, but she was a firm believer in knowledge over blissful ignorance. The lack of knowledge was one of the reasons why the bombs were dropped in the first place. Piper immediately perked up at her response, losing the bulldog attitude in the blink of an eye. The mayor, however, backpedaled and held up his plump hands in defense.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to bring you into this argument, miss.”  _ _Not if you don’t agree with me__ , Lac filled in for him. “No, no, no…You look like Diamond City material! Welcome to the Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth! Safe. Happy. A fine place to come, spend your money, settle down.” There was a little too much emphasis on money for Lac’s comfort. “Now, was there anything particular you came to our city for?”

“Just looking for something.” Lac murmured after a beat. Hell if she told him that she was looking for someone important. She knew how extortion worked, even if it came from fancy offices instead of dangerous alleys.

“Oh, what is it that you’re looking for?” McDonough hinted, his voice low in interested concern. She remained silent, staring him in the eye long enough to have him squirming awkwardly in the quiet wake of his fishing question. Piper obviously was irked by the silence as well, for she broke in with a snide comment about ineffectual guards not willing to help citizens. Like a match to a Molotov cocktail, they exploded once again into the seemingly long-standing spat between them. Lac grimaced, but was thankful to once again escape the center of attention. She turned back to the guard blocking her path, only to find him moving aside to let her pass. She cocked a questioning eyebrow, but was answered with nothing but a saucy wink behind those dark shades and an ‘after you’ gesture. The corner of her mouth threatened to tug upwards and she passed him with a shake of her head.

 

   Dogmeat joined her just before they breached the inside of the stadium, licking her hand teasingly before bouncing around her legs. If she didn’t know better, she would suspect him of making fun of her for not escaping sooner. She threatened to make good on his name and put him in the next stew, but he just barked playfully at her and ran out into the stands. She followed at a slower pace, growing weary of having to constantly adapt to the newness of this crazy time. When she broke out into the sunlight, however, she slowed to a dumbfounded stop.

   Diamond City stretched out before her, encompassing every inch of available space on the field before stretching up to climb into the stadium seating. It was simultaneously cruder and more advanced than she had pictured. They had what looked like a water purification center as well as a rudimentary duct system. Running water was a luxury that had been sorely absent in the two settlements she had helped. Yet the buildings were just as crude and hastily thrown together as everything else she had seen. The only reason this settlement seemed to thrive more readily was the protection of the wall and the sheer number of residents within. At least the market seemed to be a decent size. She could hear the hawkers crying their inventory and sale specials from here. There even seemed to be what looked like a clinic, a butcher shop, and even a giant food court in the center. Noticing that, her stomach began to complain loudly that it had indeed been quite a while since she had last eaten anything readily identifiable as food. 

 

“Hey, I’m glad I caught up to you!”

 

   Lac jumped, then froze when a hand clapped down on her shoulder. The reporter from earlier put her in a friendly, if somewhat conspiratorial, stranglehold as she leaned in close to talk to the newcomer. “I was pretty impressed back there. Not everyone can see through that shark smile. I think I just found my next story. Why don’t you swing by once you find what you’re looking for, ‘kay Blue?”

“Blue?” Lac repeated, shrugging out of Piper’s grip to stand a safe distance away. “Why are you calling me that?”

“Cause you’re a Vault Dweller?” Piper laughed in response, her response making Lac look down at herself as if she had ‘Pre-War’ stamped on her ass. Piper took pity on the her and added, “I know you’re not wearing the blue jumpsuit right now, but the Pip-boy and that ‘fish out of water’ look are dead giveaways.” Piper ran a hand up Lac’s jacket to poke at the spot right between her goggles. Lac was suddenly very grateful that the gasmask covered the entirety of her face as a dusting of red crept up to stain her cheeks. Piper seemed to somehow sense her effect on the other woman and threw her another laugh and a sly look. “With that said, I want an interview. Your life story in print. I think it’s time Diamond City had a little outside perspective on the Commonwealth.”

   Lac stared stupidly at her before bursting into laughter. It was a harsh sound and some part of her wanted to stop because it made her wince, but Piper had no idea that what she said was just too fucking funny. The reporter wanted  _ _her__  opinion, a woman who had just woken up two months ago after spending 200 years as sleeping beauty! It was just too grand!

“Hey, don’t be like that!” Piper fussed, swatting Lac before she could jerk away. “You do this and…I’ll tell you what. I’ll come with you! Watch you back while you get used to the world above ground. What do ya say?”

   When Lac could finally talk without reverting into another fit of giggles, she straightened to look the other woman in the eye. “Sure, I’ll do it.” She agreed, then held up a hand to interrupt Piper’s impending victory dance. “But I need to find something first. It’s why I came here to begin with.”

“Well, if it’s finding something you need, Valentine is your guy.” Piper retorted, her triumphant smile not budging, “He runs the detective agency down near the market. Follow the neon signs and you can’t miss it. And make sure you hit me up when you are done. I’m printing your story even if it kills me!” Lac nodded and it must have been convincing enough, for Piper turned on her heel and danced down the stairs, muttering possible story headlines to herself as she went.

 

   After finally escaping the attention of reporters and politicians alike, Lac found she could sum up her trip to Diamond City with one word:  _ _Disappointing__. She had meandered around the market before settling herself down at Power Noodles, her stool having a good view of the different merchant stalls. Swapping her gas mask for a pair of sunglasses so she could eat and spy at the same time, she watched the shops with sharp eyes as she slurped noodles. If she was going to sell her wares to these people, she would be damned sure to do a bit of basic recon on them. By the time she felt confident enough to unload her bulging pack, she knew everything from the merchants’ names to their favorite color. She easily charmed her way into better deals and walked away with a lighter load and a fatter purse. Her only hang up there was at Myrna’s general store, finding out first-hand why Piper’s threat had worked so well against Danny Sullivan. The woman was bat-shit crazy, the kind of crazy that was funny right up until it resulted in a mob gathered outside your door complete with torches and pitchforks. She vowed to give that woman a wide berth just to be safe, especially when Dogmeat gave a warning growl that sent Myrna into a fresh wave of conspiracy theory based antics. Lac had no idea what a ‘synth’ was, but she highly doubted that Dogmeat could be counted among their number (seeing as they had to be dexterous to shop if Myrna claimed to refuse service to them) and she quickly concluded the transaction.

   The real trouble started when she tried to talk to the man running the clinic about her…condition. Seeing as everyone she encountered could barely read or write legibly, Lac automatically had doubts about the man referring to himself as Dr. Sun. The sheer arrogance dripping from his attitude when he spoke, however, was certainly the type she had come to associate with a medical degree. When she asked if he had any medically approved stimulants to help control her narcolepsy, he promptly chastised her for ‘creating ridiculous medical conditions’ and pointed her toward Chem-I-Care with a sneer. She was tempted to give this quack a piece of her mind, as she actually had a degree and experience in nursing, but he looked like the only person who might even be half-competent in this hellhole so she swallowed her sarcasm and walked away before she burned that bridge. The worst part was, she was desperate enough to actual look through the chem selection offered at the strange shop. She even asked the man behind the counter a few questions to get a better idea if anything he had could help her. Yet the laidback proprietor had nothing that fit what she was looking for. Instead, he referred her Goodneighbor (wherever that was) and told her to ask around for something called Jet Fuel. From the sounds of it, she might have to cut the dosage to make it safe(ish), but it seemed to be the closest thing she had at the moment.

   The cherry on top of her proverbial cake of misery was that when she finally made her way down to this ‘detective’, the man was missing. Lac personally thought it was a tad counterproductive for a PI to get himself kidnapped, but who was she to judge. She didn’t even know where to start with her own missing persons case. So she turned on her heel, checked her pack to make sure she was at least supplied, and headed out to rescue the detective. She strode back out the gate, only pausing long enough to return the nod the guard with the sunglasses shot her way before she once again stepped into the deadly labyrinth of Boston’s streets.

 

   Lac let Dogmeat set their path, pointing to him on the map their destination and hoping he understood. He was continually surprising her, after all, and she assumed at this point that it would just be best to give him the benefit of a doubt until proven otherwise. Now that she didn’t have to worry about reading long corroded street signs, she kept her focus on the shotgun in her hands and keeping the path ahead of her clear. Her dog kept her away from the thickest fighting, but there were just too many of these idiots to dodge with a perfect score. So the pair snuck around what they could, mowed down what they had to face, and made pretty good time down to the metro station considering that cars were out of commission.

   Entering the station was like dropping head first into a nightmare. The lights flickered, the announcements chimed overhead before crackling out, and giant mutant bugs haunted bathrooms vile enough to give Codsworth night terrors for a week. She did a quick search of the place just on principle, the habit of looting a quick one to form when every meal depended on how much scrap you could fit into a pack. She shivered in relief when she finally began her descent down the stairs, pleased to put some distance between herself and those creepy bathrooms. Her opinions changed when she peeked over the railing onto the platform. A cluster of men in pinstriped suits stood on the rails, stale purple smoke rising from the orange glow of lit cigarettes. True to the cliché, two of the wannabe mobsters loosely gripped tommy guns and the others had similar weapons propped against the side of the platform. Lac let her head thump gently against the side of the stair railing. She had the worst luck.

   Brain racing and weighing shifting moral values, Lac contemplated her next step. The goons seemed unaware of her presence, but that could change at any moment whether she wanted it too or not. There were only a handful of them but she didn’t yet know if they would be hostile. They were supposedly holding Valentine against his will, but she wasn’t going to trust information second-hand. Ellie the Secretary hadn’t even received a ransom note, so who wasn’t to say the girl hadn’t wanted to bump off the detective in the first place. Lac rubbed her temples, instantly regretful that she could suspect the poor girl of anything when she had nearly been in tears when she accepted the help of a total stranger to track down her boss. So maybe Ellie wasn’t a suspect, but Lac still had a point. Perhaps she could use some charm instead of running in, guns blazing. Creeping back up the stairs, she took position where she would barely be visible and stood.

 

“Hey, guys. I have a quest- EEK!” What had begun as a calming tone ended in an offended squeal as bullets decorated the walls around her. Lac dove back down to safety and gasped at their rudeness. So much for diplomacy.

 

   Lac hunkered down, trying to throw together a plan on the fly. She looked to Dogmeat for answers, but those soft brown eyes held nothing but worry as powdered concrete rained down on the two of them. She strangled her sigh and thought about what she had with her. A frown of concentration creased her face for a moment before a manic grin bloomed across her face. Dropping her bag as fast as she could, she plunged her hand inside and rooted around until she pulled out her prizes. Clutching a cluster of grenades in her hands, she clipped them to her belt. Slinging her pack over her shoulder again, she grabbed the first grenade. Pulling the pin, she chucked the explosive over the railing and into the gathered mobsters. There was a shout of surprise, a yelp of recognition, then the resounding blast echoed through the old station. When the ringing of the explosion faded and no new hail of bullets erupted her way, Lac rose slowly to peer over the railing and stared wide eyed at the destruction she had caused.

   The blast left a crater in the concrete, scorch marks radiating to mark the direction of the blast. Shards of shrapnel dotted the platform and the bodies strewn around the blast site. Or rather, pieces of the bodies. It was captivating, drawing the eye and keeping it in the same way natural disasters or horrific crashes were captivating. Lac almost couldn’t believe that she had been the cause of it all. It sent a thrill through her and she shivered in anticipation. They just let her buy these, no questions asked? And she still had an entire belt of them? Her face lit up like a tree on Christmas day. She might still be new at this gun slinging business, but she could get used to these puppies clipped to her belt. She was ready to cause some mayhem.

   Her delight was cut short as raised voices indicated that she was not as alone as she thought.

   Three more figures ran into view from further down the rail line, catching sight of her before she could hide behind the railing. The sharp  _ _Ra-ta-ta-ta!__  of machinegun fire had Lac yelping and looking for cover. She didn’t seem to be the only one with that idea, for the three newest figures spread out and hid among the trashed railcars. Lac was tempted to pout when she realized their formation made using another grenade impractical, but at least she knew that talking would get her nowhere in this situation. Her little pistol didn’t have the aim or the sights to pick out the goons from their hiding spots in the cars, so she broke her shotgun, loaded in two shells, and snapped it back with determined expression. Looks like it was time to get her hands dirty.

   Lac caught Dogmeat’s attention and motioned for him to flank the enemies on the right and flush them out. On their journey to Diamond City, she had been trying to teach him hand signals she had seen her father use on his bird dogs when they went hunting in her youth, but she had yet to use them with her dog in situations that involved more than a few seconds of strategy. Her fights tended to devolve into yelled curses and gunfire on both sides. Now, Dogmeat slunk down the stairs and edged his way around to the back of the cars. Lac received her own signal when she heard the start of surprise followed by a gurgling cry as Dogmeat latched on to one of the mobster’s throat. The other two burst from their hiding places to aid their comrade, allowing Lac to vault over the railing and charge. She ended the first with twin barrels jammed under his ribs, the echoing blast gouging out part of his torso. The second turned just in time to receive the butt of her gun across his temple, knocking him to the ground where she pinned him and shoved her shotgun under his chin. He paused, eyes wide and bulging, before slowly raising his hands in the universal sign of surrender. Lac nearly pulled back when she got a look at him. He was practically a kid, most definitely nothing over 20 years old. Resisting the urge to rub her temples, she ignored the building headache and pulled his head back by a strong grip on his hair.

 

“Valentine.” Lac spat, not in the mood to mince words. “Where is he?”

“He’s in the vault!” the young man squealed, his voice high from fear. “Malone had him sealed up in one of the upper rooms!”

“Vault?” Lac spat, her hatred of the word coloring her tone. The kid beneath her must have noticed, for he looked ready to piss himself.

“Yes ma’am. One of those old Pre-War vaults, ma’am. Skinny thought we should hole up in the old vault. It was never used, but is pretty defensible and – Eek!” He was cut short by the growl that spilled from Lac’s lips.

“I don’t care what he thought. Just tell me how to get there.”

“Just follow the train tunnel ma’am and you can’t miss it.”

   Lac nodded and drew back the press of her gun. He relaxed slightly, then let out a sigh of relief when she stood. She looked down at him and frowned. “You aren’t going to make me kill you, are you?”

“Of course not, ma’am!” he supplied readily, hunching further in on himself with a cracked smile, “In fact, I was just thinking about taking a nice long walk outside. Far away from here. I think I might head on down to the Third Rail for a drink! Definitely no reason to hang around here!”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it” Lac responded, rolling her eyes at his prattle. “Just go. I’m not in the mood, kid, so get the fuck out of here.”

“Yes ma’am! Thank you, ma’am!” He repeated like a mantra as he scrambled to his feet and beat a fast track up the stairs and outside. He was in such a hurry that he forgot his gun. Or maybe he thought she would shoot him if he grabbed for it, Lac thought with a frown. These days, she might have done just that. Shaking her head at the sinister thought, Lac turned back to the bodies at her feet and quickly stripped them of their valuables. If she ever made it out of here, she might as well have something worth selling.

 

   Following the directions given by the kid, she made her way down the train tunnels and came to the excavation site that housed the Vault entrance. There were a few token guards, not enough to give her too much pause, and Lac found herself descending into the belly of the beast before she could say ‘nightmare’. Inside was nothing like the house of horror her own Vault contained, but the kid had said that it had never been used. She overheard something similar from a pair of mobsters before she interrupted their conversation with the cough of her shotgun. Her pace was relatively quick, the only real challenge presented in the form of a maze of catwalks lined with the pin-striped targets, but that had been near the entrance. Once again, Lac found herself willing to give an arm and a leg for a rifle. Perhaps she shouldn’t use that phrase out here, though, when losing limbs was a very real possibility.

 

   After only a few wrong turns and dead ends in the maze-like Vault, Lac finally found herself in what looked to be a mess hall. Ahead of her, she could hear the taunting voice of another goon. He certainly seemed smug about something but Lac wasn’t really paying him too much attention, or at least until he said ‘Valentine’. Her head snapped toward the man so fast her neck twinged. Was he talking  _ _to__  Valentine? Sure enough, the man replied to some unheard comment and spat the name out angrily. Lac’s shoulders slumped in momentary relief before squaring again. Time to go collect herself a kidnapped detective.

   Creeping closer, Lac discovered the man talking to a window. Was Valentine held prisoner in the room, or had he locked himself in to keep the goons away from himself? Either way, he had been missing for at least a week and was likely low on food and water. Lac wondered how he had survived thus far. As she listened to their conversation, she surmised that this Valentine character didn’t sound particularly distressed. If anything, his comments about the little black book were crafty, if delivered in an annoyed tone, and part of Lac wondered how he hadn’t managed to worm his way out of captivity before now. She had first-hand experience with the overall lack of intelligence her most recent opponents had. Moving quietly up the stairs, Lac kept one ear on their conversation. This Dino fellow, as Valentine called him, was growing more nervous with every word coming from the detective’s mouth and Lac would hate for him to turn and see her before she was ready. Just as she rounded the corner and got a visual on him, Dino turned in a panic, muttering about fixing something fast only to run into the business end of Lac’s shotgun. He let out a startled yelp, but years of survival instinct had him already reaching for his gun before Lac could speak a word. Knowing a fight was coming and not having any patience for it, Lac pulled the trigger twice.

   Silence echoed through the room after the loud shots. Lac paused to listen for backup, but when none was forthcoming she quickly reloaded and rifled through Dino’s pockets before proceeding to the window. A tall figure stood inside, shadows draping him like a cloak. She couldn’t make out his face, but his clothes were easily identifiable from the description Valentine’s secretary gave her. This guy had to Valentine.

 

“Hey you.”

   The words cut through Lac’s thoughts and made her realize she had most likely been staring creepily at the man. The expressionless gasmask she wore to protect her burns from further damage likely only added to the creep-factor. She nodded at him and gave him a little wave, just in case killing Dino wasn’t enough to show she was friendly.

“Yeah, you. Look, I don’t know who you are, but we got three minutes before they realize muscles-for-brains ain’t coming back. Get this door open.”

“Alrighty,” Lac muttered to herself as she turned from the window, “Not really one for pleasantries, our Valentine.” Then again, she didn’t think she would be either after a week locked in a room with only these mob wannabes as company.

   There was a computer terminal on the far side of the platform. Trotting over to it, Lac quickly broke into the code and dug through data bank of passwords. This happened to be an easier one, seeing as the Vault had never been used, so the list of past passwords was short. After a few false starts, she heard the door groan open and Lac turned to meet the man she had worked so hard to save. She really hoped he would be worth the effort. He was her best hope of finding her son, her only real lead if she was being honest with herself, and -

   Yellow eyes.

   Lac jerked to a halt. The man had yellow eyes, segmented in a way that reminded her of the power button on the large machines she sometimes worked with. His skin was worn and dirty, but most alarmingly it had begun to peel away in some areas, exposing metal framework. This man was no man at all. He was some type of humanoid machine. Lac’s mind was reeling, unable to quite process what she was seeing despite it being right in front of her face. What else could this fucked up world throw at her?

 

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario.” Valentine chuckled, either unaware of Lac’s mental malfunction or choosing to ignore it. He continued speaking as he dug through his pockets, pulling out a cigarette and match. “Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?”

“What...are you?” Lac stammered. She immediately clapped her hands over the breather of her mask; she hadn’t meant to say that out loud.  _ _Please, dear god, don’t be offended!__ She begged silently,  _ _This guy is your only hope and the first thing out of your mouth is a possible insult! Way to fucking go, you nitwit!__

“Told you. I’m a detective.” Oh yeah. That question most definitely hit a nerve...wire...whatever it hurts to hit. He let out a weary sigh and stared at her, unamused. “Look, I know the skin and metal parts ain’t comforting, but it’s not important right now. The only thing that matters is why you went to all this trouble to cut me loose.”

   Alright. Straight to business. This Lac could handle. “I need you to find someone, but it’s …. complicated.” She began, fiddling with her shotgun as her nerves got the better of her. She hadn’t exactly told this to anyone before, but she was sure her story would sound outlandish. Even more outlandish that the human-robot- machine figure standing in front of her was. “I don’t exactly know where they could be, or how long they’ve been gone.”

   Valentine was silent for a brief moment, taking a long drag from his cigarette, before blowing smoke and answering.

“Well, I’ve done jobs with less. Somehow ‘nice and simple’ never makes it onto the menu in my world. Anyway, you got troubles and I’m glad to help. But now ain’t the time. Let’s blow this joint. Then we’ll talk.”

   Lac nodded. She understood there was a time and place for everything and she had no desire to start crying over her lost baby and dead partners in the middle of a gang hideout. Hoisting up her shotgun, she strode over to the door where Dogmeat had taken watch unprompted. She really had to start feeding him more treats. Looking outside, she determined the coast was clear and began the procession out of the Vault.

   Valentine kept a running commentary in the background, feeding her information on Skinny Malone’s gang, the kidnapped runaway who wasn’t quite kidnapped, and offered directions when it looked like Lac was getting lost. He also turned out to be pretty handy with jammed doors. There were a few that Lac thought she would have to detour around, but Valentine simply fiddled with the panel and they sprung open. She began to think he was a rather useful person to have around, even with the unsettling features. Together, they tore through the passages in record time, either sneaking by or blowing through clusters of mobsters with the element of surprise. Even coming face to face with Skinny Malone and his newest flame ended up working in their favor. Nick talked Malone out of filling them full of lead and after listening to the whiny violence spewing from Darla’s mouth, Lac couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Malone seemed like the reasonable sort, in a manner of speaking, so Lac gave it to him straight. He could do so much better than the psycho-in-training Darla turned out to be, especially when she seemed to undermine his authority at every turn. When Malone agreed and told Darla to beat it, Lac could swear she felt Valentine stifling laughter beside her. Violence averted for the barest moment, the two of them quickly followed the miffed Darla to the surface.

 

“Ah, look at that Commonwealth sky.” Valentine sighed, stepping onto the crumbling asphalt. Reaching down, he helped Lac through the manhole and onto solid ground. “Never thought anything so naturally ominous could end up looking so inviting...And thanks for getting me out. How did you know where to find me, anyway? Not many people knew where I went.”

“Elle, your secretary...”

“Ah, remind me to give her a raise.” Nick replied with a chuckle. “Now you mentioned something about a missing person? Meet me back in my office at Diamond city and we can talk.”

Lac nodded, not trusting her voice when answers were so close. She was going to do it. She was going to get Shaun back and this was the first step to finding her baby.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Did everyone say hello to Piper, Nick, and a brief view of our favorite sassy spy? (Don't worry. There will be more of him in the future!) I am happy to say that things are moving a bit faster now and soon Lac will find herself lost in Goodneighbor!  
> *Cue evil cackling*  
> See you next time! LAD Out!
> 
> Edited 2/8/18
> 
> (Note: None of the characters are mine. I just play with them and borrow some of their dialogue. I don't have enough money for you to sue me. Seriously. I am so broke it's not even funny)


	4. Leads and Lakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the daring rescue of Nick Valentine, he returns the favor by agreeing to help Lacuna find her missing son. The interview turns up a lead and Lacuna is once again out in the Commonwealth, this time headed toward Goodneighbor. Yet, with no one but herself and her dog to keep her safe in the danger of the Commons, will she make it there in one piece?

 Returning to Diamond City was astoundingly much simpler than the journey to rescue Nick Valentine had been. Lac secretly told herself it was because what few remaining raiders had survived her initial sweep through the area were smart enough to lay low, but the truth was most likely due to the company she now kept. Nick certainly cut an intimidating figure with his billowing trenchcoat and his fedora pulled down low. He looked like an actor from one of the old nior detective movies, where the PI skirts the law and lives dangerously with a beautiful widow draped across his arm, waiting to be ‘comforted’. Nora, ever the romantic, had always found such movies thrilling and hated it when Lac and Nate teased her mercilessly about them. She would have loved Nick, metal bits and all.

   Speaking of, Lac wanted desperately to know how exactly he became...was mechanical the right word? He obviously had a fully developed personality, complete with bad habits and all if his chain smoking like a smokestack was any indication, but everything she could see of his body seemed to be artificial. Yet every time she found a question forming on her tongue, she was reminded of the horrible case of word vomit she had spewed on their meeting. Great first impression, that. So it was with a cringe that she bit back her curiosity and decided to wait. He would either tell her or someone else would. If she knew anything, it was that people can’t keep their mouths shut and that was a human trait that was far from being bred out in the 200 years she’d been asleep.

   When they entered Diamond City proper, no one seemed to have anything to say about Valentine’s appearance, other than to welcome him back, so Lac figured his robot status was a known and accepted fact. Well, everyone was welcoming except that crazy Myrna. She freaked, working herself into hysterics before running inside the building and yelling at Nick through the slatted windows of her shop. She kept calling him a synth, but Lac also remembered that Myrna had also accused Lac and Dogmeat of both being synths, so she wasn’t too sure if that meant anything. They passed by the shops to the alley lit with the soft red glow of the Detective Agency sign before finally finding refuge in Valentine’s office.

   As Nick opened the door, Ellie spun, the expression on her face tearful and upset at yet another interruption. Her mouth was open to begin telling off the visitors, just as she had upon Lac’s first visit, but when she saw Nick the only thing that left her mouth was a wordless keen. Dropping the papers in her hand in a flurry of chaos, the young woman ran forward and launched herself at the PI, throwing her arms around his shoulders in the tightest hug Lac had ever seen. The sheer momentum of Ellie’s reaction had the pair spinning into the doorframe, but it seemed the woman couldn’t care less. For the first few minutes she just clung to Valentine and cried, the detective looking pleadingly down at Lac for help in the situation. Lac just laughed and shook her head. She wouldn’t have known what to do either. When the relief finally bled out of her system, Ellie’s fiery side peeked out and she began browbeating Nick for going missing in the first place. Their good-natured arguing was amusing in its domesticity, but it also made somewhere deep inside Lac’s heart ache. It felt too much like home. Loathe to break up the reunion but unable to bear the scene anymore, Lac politely cleared her throat to grab Nick’s attention.

 

“Right, right.” Nick latched onto the distraction gratefully, turning Ellie so she was facing Lac. “Our new friend here needs our help.”

   Ellie nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks and smiling as she spoke. “Why don’t you take a seat and I will go get you a drink. Nick can really put you through the ringer when he is digging for clues, so you try to make yourself as comfortable as possible.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Lac replied, suddenly nervous now that it was time to talk about what had happened. It was an unbelievable story at best and she really hoped that Nick would be able to help her instead of blowing the whole thing off as some drug-induced trip. Sinking into the overstuffed chair in front of Nick’s desk, Lac resisted the urge to huddle in the cushions. It was all too tempting to try and disappear, but she was stronger than that...or she hoped so, at least. When Ellie returned with bottle of flat Nuka-Cola and a two fingers of whiskey in a glass, it took everything Lac had not to toss back the alcohol immediately.

 

“All right. Let’s get down to business.” Nick began as he settled himself in the hard looking swivel chair on the other side of his desk. Behind him, Ellie stood poised with a leaf of papers and a pencil at the ready, set to record everything that was spoken in the interview. “Now, when you’re trying to find someone who’s gone missing, the devil is in the details. Tell me everything you can, no matter how painful it might be.”

 

“Alright, I will...I will try.” Lac breathed, her voice already shaking. She hadn’t even begun yet and her nerves were already tingling with static, her right leg jumping out of habit while her hands wouldn’t stop moving in her lap. What was she supposed to do with her hands? Unable to get comfortable, she took a big breath and just dove in. “I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but you have to believe me. We were all in a vault, Vault 111, some kind of cryo facility. Nora, my partner, she was...murdered. She was trying to keep them from taking Shaun, our baby, and they...they just...”

“It’s okay.” Ellie cut in soothingly, “You don’t need to say anything more.”

   Lac nodded jerkily, trying to fight the tears that threatened to start falling again. It still hurt so much. Nick drummed his fingers against the desk, trying to examine the few pieces of testimony he had received thus far.

“So we’re talking about a group of cold-hearted killers, but they waited until something went wrong to resort to violence.” He mused, “So Shaun, your baby...was he adopted or found? Sometimes the biological parents change their mind and get desperate...”

“No, he was ours!” Lac exclaimed loudly, then realized she had protested perhaps a bit too forcefully. “It was a unique situation. There were three of us, you see, and Shaun was all of ours. It’s just that Nora was the closest to him. She carried him and well, it was like he could tell. That’s why she was holding him when-”

“It’s alright. I was just asking.” Nick comforted. “And this other partner of yours? Where was he during all of this? Is he helping, too?”

“Nate...we were unable to help during the kidnapping. I don’t even think he was conscious. Later, when I got free...He-he was dead too. It was so horrible!”

“I’m so sorry!” Ellie cried, pausing in her writing to give Lac a quick hug. It was awkward, being hugged by a complete stranger who knew her sad story, but it was also slightly comforting. She wasn’t the only one to bear this pain, she wasn’t alone, and they believed her. They shared her grief. That was something Lac had not expected.

“What else can you tell me?” Nick prompted gently. Lac nodded and continued.

 

“There were two of them. A man and a woman. They didn’t say much, but I remember they were specifically after Shaun. Later, before they left, I remember they called me ‘the backup’.” Lac spat the last phrase, the disgust she felt poisoning the words.

“Hm,” the sound was thoughtful, as if Nick was beginning to piece together pieces of the larger picture, “a small team. Professionals too, by the sound of it. They know when to keep their lips tight when they’re on the job.” Scratching his chin, he added, “Not sure what ‘the backup’ means though. Anything else?”

“I just don’t understand why they took Shaun!” Lac bit out, hands in tight fists in her lap as she fiercely blinked away the tears that had begun to pool in the bottom of her goggles. “He’s just a baby; less than a year old! Who does that?!”

“That’s actually a good question. Why target your family and why take the infant? A baby needs a lot of care and someone would be going through a lot of work just to take on that type of care.” Nick paused, then let out a heavy sigh and lit another cigarette. Taking a deep drag, he exhaled and looked straight into Lac’s eyes, piercing through them as if the goggles weren’t there. “This isn’t some random kidnapping. Whoever took your kid had an agenda.”

 

“What the hell kind of agenda involves stealing someone’s baby?” Demanded Lac, trying very hard not to shoot the messenger but feeling as if she was failing. “He couldn’t even walk. Nora was still breastfeeding him, for christ’s sake!”

“There are quite a few groups in the Commonwealth that take people.” The answer was not one Lac wanted to hear, but Nick continued anyway, too deep in his thought process to see the effect it had on his client. “The raiders sometimes grab people for ransom or slaves, though they usually only take adults. Kids would be too much work. The Gunners for similar reasons, though they might try to train someone young to be the perfect soldier for them. Still doesn’t add up, though. Super mutants...well, I won’t go into detail. Besides, you said it was a man and a woman so I doubt it was super mutants. Finally, there’s the Institute.”

“The Institute?” Lac repeated, “You think that they might be responsible?”

“Well, they are the boogeymen of the Commonwealth.” He admitted, “Something goes wrong and everyone blames them. Easy to see why, too. Those early model synths of theirs strip whole towns for parts, killing everything in their way. Then you got their newer models, good as human, that infiltrate cities and pull strings from the shadows. Worst of all, no one knows why they do it, what their plan is, or even where they are.”

 

“Synth?” Lac asked, hoping she might get some answers now without stepping on his toes. “I’ve heard that word around, but no one has ever explained it to me. What is a synth?”

“You’re looking at one, doll. Or a discarded prototype, anyway.”

“You’re a prototype?”

“As far as I know.” He answered, expression carefully neutral. “never seen any other synth like myself. There’s the older ones that are dumb as rocks and all metal, then there’s the newer one that are almost human. I figure I’m somewhere in between.”

“If you are a synth, do you know how to find the Institute, or if they have Shaun?” She pleaded, hoping he might have information on how to get her baby back.

“No, I may be a synth, but I have no memory of the Institute. It was all scrubbed when I was discarded. Probably some kinda fail-safe to cover their asses.” Nick admitted solemnly.

Lac nodded. “Right. It was too good to hope for, anyway. Either way, I still need to find Shaun.”

“You’re right, we’re getting off track.” Nick agreed, leaning forward and resting his chin on templed fingers. “Let’s focus on what you saw that day. What did these kidnappers look like? Did anything really stand out to you?”

 

“Right, let me think.” Reimmersing herself in the memory was far from pleasant, especially now that she had some idea of who those bastards might be. Pulling up every detail she could, Lac began to describe the perpetrators. “The woman was dressed in some kind of Hazmat suit, white or a pale color. The man had some sort of metal brace on his arm, underneath he was dressed in black leather. He had a distinct voice, one I’ll never forget. Low and rough, like sandpaper scratching across a sunburn. And when he came up to me...I got a pretty good look at him. He was bald, but like he shaved his head rather than lost his hair, and he had this nasty scar running deep across his left eye-”

“Wait! It couldn’t be!” Ellie interrupted, swatting Nick on his shoulder in recognition.

“I know Ellie, I thought so too.” Nick waved Ellie off and pinned Lac with a sharp gaze. “You didn’t hear the name ‘Kellogg’ at all, did you?”

 

* * *

 

   Kellogg.

   Lac finally had a name to label the face that haunted her nightmares and made her blood boil in her veins. Kellogg. He was the bastard that took everything away from her and she was going to make him pay. Yet a name was all she had. Nick Valentine told her he needed time to discover Kellogg’s whereabouts and had cautioned her to prepare herself for a nasty fight in the interim. Kellogg was a known mercenary and a skilled one at that. Lac may be fiery, but she had little hope against an experienced gunslinger. Her only hope would be superior firepower and the drive of a mother. Well, she was severely lacking in one of those areas. Luckily, Valentine directed her toward a veritable payload of quick caps.

   The marker on her Pipboy’s map that labeled Goodneighbor looked to be easy enough to find. It was in the historic district, nestled along the route of the Freedom Trail she had walked once when she had first visited Nora’s family. Nick had warned her to stay out of the Commons and no matter what, most definitely stay away from Swan Lake. She had no idea why he sounded so matter-of-fact, but his stern tone reminded her of her father when he first showed her how to shoot, so she decided to listen to the synth.

   The road to Goodneighbor wasn’t nearly as easy as she first assumed. The ‘safe’ path Valentine had marked out for her was riddled with raiders and super mutants, and when she attempted to sneak past them, she found herself  _ _way__  off course. Dogmeat kept her going in a generally northeast direction, but after her fourth unintended firefight, Lac guessed she had accidentally wandered into the Commons. She cursed quietly. At this rate, she was going to need to refill her ammunition supply just to take jobs that would earn her the caps needed to buy better weapons. She was too tired for this shit.

   Her grumbling inner monologue was interrupted as a bullet whizzed past her right shoulder, pulling a yelp from her throat even as she instinctively dove for cover. Ahead of her, Dogmeat whipped around and raced to join her, growling softly as he searched for the source of the threat. A faint taunt from above caused Lac to huddle flush against the building she hid behind. So there were raiders on the rooftops. How lovely. Another bullet flew by, clipping the brick beside her and sending chips and dust blowing over her mask and clothing. Switching her shotgun out for the laser musket she had modified, Lac decided that raiders were the worst. Raising her weapon, she spun out of cover into a crouch and raised the scope to her eye. She ignored the shot that flew overhead, instead searching for the shooter. The glint of tarnished metal caught her eye and she trained in on the figure of a raider reloading his pipe rifle. There were four others behind him, but none seemed to carry any gun with any long range capabilities. While the raider was distracted, Lac cranked the musket three times, steadied her aim, and pulled the trigger. While an agonized yell, the raider dropped to his knees, clutching his thigh. It hadn’t been what she aimed for, but he was pretty far away and at an odd angle. Cranking the musket again, she compensated her aim and shot again. This time the flash of red hit him square in the chest and his entire body glowed for a brief instant before dissolving into a pile of ash.

   His fellows sent of a shout, one scooping up the fallen man’s rifle and taking cover. Others seemed to be heading for the stairs. Ducking back behind the building, Lac knew she needed to change position. She could worry about finding Goodneighbor when she was safe. Skirting the outside wall around the building, she dodged from cover to cover. Gunfire followed her, letting her know she was far from safe. The yelling from the other raiders was growing closer, too. They had to be on the streets with her, no doubt trying to flush her out so the sniper still on the rooftop could take a clean shot at her. Signaling Dogmeat, she sent him to flank them and pick them off as she acted as bait. They weren’t the only ones who could plan, after all. Yet as Lac continued her game of Hide-and-Shoot, she found herself quickly running out of places to hide. She was being forced out into the open.

   Ahead of her was a park, the cast iron fencing still mostly intact. She sprinted across the open street to take cover behind a bus stop shelter, hoping to somehow cross the park to the buildings on the other side. There were plenty of scraggly trees, but there was also a small lake. She could already hear her Geiger counter start to click lazily at her just from being this close and she was still outside the fenced area. She would have to move quickly and then drown herself in RadAway when she found shelter. As she waited for the tell-tale shouts of the raiders to give away their position, she occupied herself with cranking her musket.

 

“Ah, fuck! You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“There’s no way in hell I am goin’ in there!”

“Fuck it. Let the Swan fucking have her. You hear that, bitch?! You’re fucking dead!”

 

   Lac peeked out from cover in confusion. Sure enough, none of the raiders had followed her. Instead, they were lined up at the edge of the clearing, none daring to step foot onto the open street. With them just standing there like idiots, Lac couldn’t not take a shot, downing another idiot before the others wised up and jumped back into cover. They continued to shout threats at her, indicating that something called a ‘Swan’ was going to throw her around like a ragdoll. Lac was actually a bit intimidated. She remembered swans from before the war. They might be pretty to look at, but those birds were mean little fuckers! She could only imagine what radiation had turned them into, especially if deathclaws were any indication.

   Another shot from the rooftop sniper rang out, but it sailed over the bus stop by a wide margin. Lac let out a laugh, completely unimpressed by the man’s aim, only to choke on the sound as the lake roiled behind her. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see the water churning angrily and the largest super mutant she had ever seen rise from the depths of the pond. Strapped to its body was the dismembered pieces of the swan boats, clinging to its massive frame like armor. One arm was encased in the hull of a boat, creating a claw like image, while the other hand toted a large anchor. The creature let out a bellowing roar that had Lac’s ears ringing afterward and sent ice down her spine. She whistled for Dogmeat to stay away, but the noise alerted the behemoth to her presence. With another roar it charged her location, sending her scampering out of its path. Panicked, Lac didn’t even have a chance to raise the scope before it turned and charged her again. She shot from the hip, the charged laser hitting the beast in the neck but doing little more than agitating it. Lac could feel the color drain from her face as she raced to find cover, to escape the monster, anything. Yet every tree she ducked behind was splintered, every fence was trampled, and the phone booth she ducked around had been wrenched straight out of the ground before it was thrown at her. She was so busy running from the behemoth that she couldn’t even get off a shot. No wonder the raiders hadn’t followed her. She had just walked willingly into a killing zone.

   As she ran, Lac spotted a subway tunnel entrance and veered towards it. As an oversized anchor crashed into the ground were she had been, she was suddenly grateful for the appearance of the building. As it was, the ground trembled enough to knock her off balance and she stumbled slightly before renewing her sprint with new purpose. She didn’t slow even as she clear the entrance to the tunnel. In her flight, however, she forgot about the stairs and ended tumbling down them before crashing into the wall at the bottom. If she survived the Swan, she was going to be covered in bruises. As she clutched her spinning head, the light from outside was blocked by the massive form of the Swan blocking the tunnel entrance. It was too large to enter the structure, but its size always seemed to be to its advantage. Lac watched in dazed horror as it backed up slightly before swinging its anchor like a baseball bat, hitting the sides of the building and taking out large chunks of tile and concrete. It was going to collapse the building on top of her. Lac turned to the door beside her and yanked it open. Or, she tried to. Though the handle turned, the door wouldn’t budge. It was somehow blocked from the other side.

 

 _ _Of course it is__ , Lac thought desperately,  _ _There is an insane monster on the outside. Who wouldn’t block it? Only you are dumb enough to wander into its territory willingly!__

 

   Abandoning the door, Lac turned to face the quickly crumbling opening. She had to get past the behemoth somehow if she wanted to survive this. She cranked her gun to maximum capacity and fired multiple rounds into the unprotected areas of the creature, but it seemed completely unfazed at her attempts. The shotgun had just as little success. She would have to make a mad dash, somehow dodging the behemoth and try to make it to the buildings. She could easily lose it there, where her escape wouldn’t be thwarted by a blocked door. Holstering her shotgun across her back, she crouched into a sprinters start. Time to act a little crazy.

   Pushing what little adrenaline fueled energy that remained in her body into her legs, Lac rose from her crouch in a burst of speed. The building around her blurred as she raced up the stairs, fear forcing her to run faster than she ever had in her life. She could feel the rubble shifting under her feet as she reached the destroyed section of the building, then cracked earth and brittle grass as she cleared the area of destruction. She was going to make it. The buildings were just ahead. She was almost there!

   Wind whipped around her as the anchor flew past, the heavy metal clipping her left shoulder and knocking her to the ground. All the air left her lungs in a ragged burst, forced out from the impact. Lac struggled to inhale and her vision swam. Just as she managed to swallow her first gasp of air, it tore out of her in a scream as a gigantic hand closed around her torso and lifted her up in a strangling grasp. Her ribs creaked as they were squeezed and despite her struggles, Lac couldn’t wiggle free. When she was lifted to eye level with the behemoth, she froze. The foul stench of decaying carrion wafted from the creature’s misshapen mouth and caused Lac to gag. She tried to think up some way to escape, any scenario that would lead to her getting out of this situation, but her brain refused to cooperate. All she could see was the multiple ways in which she could be killed by this beast. She wouldn’t find Kellogg. She wouldn’t rescue Shaun. Anger at the injustice bubbled up in her and she pound her fists against the hand closed around her middle. A wordless scream ripped from her throat, part pain and a large part rage. She was not going to end up another unidentifiable bloodstain because of this behemoth.

   Suddenly, the creatures head snapped forward in a bloom of blood. With a cry of pain, it reflexively relaxed its grip, dropping Lac. Biting off a surprised curse, she grabbed for a handhold. Tired hands catching on the multitude of chains spanning the behemoth’s chest, Lac clung onto the giant super mutant as he spun. He was obviously looking for whatever had attacked him. Another burst of blood, this time on the side of its neck, sent the behemoth stumbling back slightly. This was her chance. Hauling herself up higher, Lac knew that she was too battered to outrun the behemoth now. As she perched right beneath its chin, she reached for her shotgun, only to find an empty holster. Taking a deep calming breath, she held back the torrent of emotions that threatened to burst free and reached instead for her musket. It was not ideal at this range, but it would be better than nothing. Slinging the weapon around her body, she heard the off beat fizzle before she saw the cracked canister. The red light flickered fitfully, gathering along the fissures in the glass tubing. Throwing the broken musket down with a curse, Lac had had enough. She was sore, she was tired, and she was done with this shit.

   Pulling herself up onto the behemoth’s shoulder, she grabbed a large plank of the swan boat decoration that had splintered off. With all the balance she could scrounge up, she wound up and swung her makeshift weapon of the creature’s head. It connected with a satisfying thunk. The behemoth swiveled its head to locate the newest threat, surprise crossing its malformed features at finding said threat perched on its shoulder. Before it could swat her off, Lac turned to jagged wood in her hands and dove the plank straight into the behemoth’s eye socket. The wood met with a slight resistance before sinking in deep and Lac threw all her weight into pushing it even deeper. When the behemoth continued to move, arms flailing in panic, Lac changed direction, slamming down on her end of the plank to send the embedded portion slicing through the creatures brain straight into the motor portion of its brain. It worked, perhaps a little too well.

   The behemoth stopped in its tracks, then began to fall forward. With a strangled yell, Lac scrambled around to the behemoth’s back to avoid being squashed beneath its weight. When it landed, the impact was enough jar Lac from her position and knock her to the ground. Laying on her back, she looked over at the motionless Swan and felt a wave of giddy relief sweep over her. Manic giggles bubbled from her lips and despite every inch of her body hurting, she seemed unable to stop them. She knew she needed to get up and find Dogmeat, to find shelter and tend to her injuries, but she was trapped in a weightless state where everything hurt too much to move but her mind was so high on victory and relief that she was beginning not to feel it. With another broken giggle, Lac decided she would remember to care later. Right now, the stress and elation she was feeling was bleeding away into a growing fog. Sleep was pulling her down and she knew by now that it was pointless to fight it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the bit with the Swan...yeah, that happened my first playthrough, only I wasn't nearly as bad ass. Don't go stumbling into Swan's Pond when you are a level 5. It is a very bad idea. 
> 
> On a different note, sorry about the heavy game dialogue. It can get boring, but it needed to be there for plot or something. Don't ask me, I just write these things...Also, it is about to start getting really fun! I personally LOVE Goodneighbor and all the shenanigans that go on there, so expect some interesting things in the next few chapters! LAD Out!
> 
> Edited 2/8/18
> 
> (Note: I don't own the Fallout characters, just a copy of the game. Please enjoy my writing without going all legal on me. That would make me very sad.)


	5. Dreams and Druglords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lacuna survives her encounter with the Swan with some unexpected help and ends up finding herself on Goodneighbor's doorstep. What does a community of outcasts and chem addicts hold in store for her? Murder, mayhem, and new friends obviously. This is Goodneighbor, after all.

_“_ _Wow, you really busted yourself up this time, didn’t you?”_

 

__Lac opened her eyes with a groan. Everything hurt. Her arms and legs felt stretched, her torso like it had been put through a meat grinder, and her head pounded hard enough to star as lead percussion in an orchestra. She swore even her hair hurt. With another groan, she swatted Nate away from her and tried to curl back up._ _

“ _ _Go away, Nate.” She moaned. “I feel like shit. Go bug Nora. I need to sleep now.”__

“ _ _You feel like shit? No wonder!” Nate chuckled, “I have never seen anyone do something as crazy as what I just witnessed. Tell me straight now, were you dropped on your head as a baby or did your particular brand of insanity develop later in life?”__

“ _ _Fuck off, Nate. I’m not in the mood.” It came out a growl and Lac instantly felt bad. She should be nicer to Nate, but she couldn’t quite remember why. Her mind was still partially asleep and didn’t play well with fully formed thoughts at the moment. “Please, I need to sleep. Can you go make sure Shaun is alright? He still isn’t sleeping through the night well and Nora needs all the sleep she can get.”__

“ _ _Well, as interesting as this insight into your life is, we have bigger problems at the moment. You probably won’t like what’s coming next.” Nate informed her matter-of-factly. “This might pinch a bit.”__

 

__The sharp dig of a needle made Lac start, her entire body jerking as she gasped. The sensation was closely followed by a hot burning pressure as something was injected into her vein too quickly, but then the burn mellowed into a numbing blanket that spread through her body and eased her singing nerves. Med-X. There was nothing else quite like it and Lac was now a familiar to the pain easing effect of the drug. With a little sigh, she let her body relax so the drug could work with little resistance. She almost didn’t feel the next needle, or the icy spread of a stimpack working its magic._ _

 

“ _ _Thanks, Nate.” Lac whispered, reaching out to brush his arm as he held the stimpack steady. “You’re a real gem, you know that?”__

“ _ _Sure thing, sister.” Nate replied with a snort, though he moved his arm out of her reach. “You just better be glad we need your crazy ass or I don’t know how I would explain going through so many stimpacks to the boss. I’m just really hoping you turn out to be worth it.”__

__Worth it? Worth what? The comment had flags going up in Lac’s mind, but it was too foggy to puzzle together why. And come to think of it, Nate didn’t quite sound right. His tone was too jovial and his speech pattern was off. Lac tried to turn to get a good look at the person helping her, but was stopped before she could make out anything more than dark sunglasses._ _

 

“ _ _Ah ah! No you don’t!” The stranger chuckled. “That would ruin the surprise, and I do love surprises….about as much as a kick to the gut, anyway. You just go back to sleep now.”__

__With the large doses of medicine running through her veins and a bone deep weariness dragging at her, Lac could hardly argue. Besides, this man was helping her, right? It wasn’t like he would waste valuable stimpacks on her only to kill her in her sleep. She would trust him for now. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice, anyway, as her eyelids slid closed once more._ _

 

* * *

 

   Lac’s eyes shot open and she burst upward into a sitting position with a loud gasp. Beside her, Dogmeat jerked awake and looked around for the danger. Upon sensing nothing, he lay his head in her lap and licked her hand. Her chest heaving, Lac tried to piece together what had happened and why she was so panicked. She was on her way to Goodneighbor, that much she remembered easily, and had encountered trouble along the way. Ghouls, raiders, and then….that giant fucking super mutant. An involuntary shudder wracked Lac’s body as her mind replayed her encounter with the Swan. She had been certain that she was going to die there, but then something had attacked the behemoth. She hadn’t heard any shots, but it had certainly looked like something was shooting at the Swan. A silenced rifle, maybe? And certainly one of a high caliber, if it actually had an effect on the super mutant. Yet Lac knew from her experience with the raiders than none of them carried anything as powerful or advanced to deliver that kind of blow, and they most definitely would  _ _not__  try to save her life. In fact, why hadn’t they attacked her while she had been unconscious? It didn’t make any sense. Looking down at her body, she wondered how she had managed to survive at all. To her surprise, she saw the greenish blotches of mostly healed bruises through the rips in her clothing and she could move with relative ease. She blinked in confusion. How long had she been out? And for that matter, where was she?

   Standing with care, Lac decided to try and find at least a few answers to her growing number of questions and began by looking around the small room she was in. There was little furniture and what was there was clearly not maintained except for the tiny bed she had been laying on. The room had no window and the door was locked with a grand total of four deadbolts. A shelf along one wall sported a variety of prewar snacks and purified water. It was clearly some sort of safe house, which meant someone had carried her there and doctored her. Lac vaguely remembered her dream and wondered how much of it had been hallucinations. They happened sometimes, when her brain couldn’t quite shake itself of sleep despite her body being awake. Had she been speaking to her rescuer, or had she been imagining him too? Unable to answer her own questions, she decided to shelve it for later. She still had to get to Goodneighbor and god only knew how long she had laid there unconscious. A quick search of the room resulted in her finding her pack, with her missing shotgun laying on top of it. With a happy coo of delight, Lac ran her hands over the sleek barrels before holstering back into its usual spot. Stuffing some of the foodstuffs into her pack, Lac adjusted her clothing back into order (doing her best to ignore the numerous new stains and rips that adorned her already tattered clothes) and proceeded out the door with Dogmeat on her heels.

   The German Shepard quickly took the lead, no doubt remembering the trouble that Lac’s detours had led them into. She happily followed her furry companion. She had no desire to repeat what had happened nor to find if the Commons could offer something even worse. She wouldn’t put it past this god-awful place. With her competent canine guide leading the way, Lac tried to mentally rebuild some of the surrounding buildings to see if she could recognize any possible landmarks. Unfortunately, 200 years and a nuclear blast seemed to accomplish quite a bit in the destruction category. In an already unfamiliar city, the partially demolished cityscape looked as foreign to Lac as an alien planet. With a huff, she reverted to playing lookout instead. She was so focused on watching the streets and windows for enemies that she nearly tripped over Dogmeat when he stopped in front of her.

“What the hell, boy?” Lac snorted, more amused than miffed at the dog. He looked up at her happily and barked once before jumping excitedly in a circle. Looking around to see what had him so enthusiastic, Lac stared in dumb shock when she saw the large glowing neon sign that marked the location of Goodneighbor. Peeking suspiciously down at Dogmeat, she added, “So you can read now too, huh boy? Are you sure you are really a dog?”

   Dogmeat cocked his head questioningly at his owner, then raised his paw and batted at the air in an attempt to do the ‘shake’ trick they had been working on. Lac rolled her eyes with a smile before nuzzling his head with her own.

“Who am I kidding? You are a good boy, aren’t you?” She asked, rubbing vigorously behind his ears, “Who is the best boy? You are!”

   Dogmeat barked happily and wrestled free of her grasp to dance a happy circle around her before racing off towards Goodneighbor. With a weary laugh, Lac took off after him. Rounding the corner, her glee was dampened slightly when she found her dog nosing at the body of a scavenger. From the many holes that dotted his body, the man had obviously not died of natural causes. Maybe the residents of Goodneighbor weren’t as friendly as the name suggested? She had heard it was a safe haven for outcasts and junkies, but Nick had told her she would be fine there so long as she kept her nose in her own business. Lac pulled a face and hoped it would be that easy. A quick perusal of the dead man’s pockets confirmed what Lac already guessed; anything of value had already been stripped. He was laying outside in nothing but his long johns, after all. After some of the things she had seen, Lac was slightly surprised he still had those. Standing and brushing herself off (for what little good that did), Lac trudged over the last few yards to the Goodneighbor gate. It was time to see what this little settlement had in store for her.

   Pushing open the gate, she was met with bright neon lights indicating shops and a small gathering of people who seemed to wear the dazed look of tripping drifters. She next noticed the line of guards holding well maintained submachine guns. She let out a weak, nervous chuckle and a small wave. She immediately felt stupid, but much better to look like a harmless idiot than a threat. Or, that’s what she thought until a man who stank of too much alcohol swaggered up into her personal space.

 

“Hey! Hold up there.” The man barked, a slimy smile crawling across his face as he lit a cigarette and slid an arm around Lac’s shoulders. “First time in Goodneighbor? Let me let you in on a little something. Ya can’t very well go walking around without insurance.”

“Insurance?” Lac questioned, her tone instantly turning to disgust as she pushed his arm away from her, “Unless it’s ‘keep-dumb-assholes-away-from-me’ insurance, I’m not interested.”

“Now don’t be like that!” His rebuked arm tried to slither around her waist instead while he let the other rest visibly on the handle of his pistol, like he was trying to warn her what refusal to his advances meant. Suggestively, he added, “I think you’re gonna like what I have to offer.”

“Back the fuck off. Now.” Lac growled, and beside her Dogmeat echoed her in warning. When the man didn’t immediately move, Dogmeat snapped at his offending hand. Jerking it back just in time to avoid being bitten, the man snarled.

“All right then. If that’s how you’re gonna be,” He spat, “You hand over everything you got in them pockets, or ‘accidents’ start happenin’ to ya. Big, bloody ‘accidents’.”

   Who did this asshole think he was?! Fists clenched, mouth open to retort, Lac’s tirade was cut off before it began by a new figure approaching from a shadowed alley beside one of the stores.

 

“Whoa, whoa! Time out!”

 

  Lac half-turned to tell the newcomer to piss off, but the words were caught in her throat. It was a fucking zombie. She had encountered what the settlers called ‘ghouls’ before, but they had all seemed too...decayed to interact beyond attacking her on sight. This one was swaggering towards them dressed in some kind of colonial get-up, hands held up in a placating gesture while he tried to apparently calm the situation. Needless to say, Lac was a little lost for words.

“Someone steps through the gate the first time, they’re a guest!” The ghoul explained cheerfully, if slowly, as if it took some effort to get the leather clad idiot harassing Lac to understand the simple words. Or he was repeating a conversation that had occurred many times. “Now you lay off that extortion crap, ya hear?”

   The conman turned to face the ghoul, radiating irritation and obviously not backing down. “What d’you care?” He demanded, taking a step forward to try and intimidate the newcomer. “She ain’t one of us!”

“No love for your mayor, Finn? Haha,” The ghoul laughed, lifting the tricorn from his head to rub his scalp nonchalantly before replacing the hat. When he looked back at the man in front of him, his tone was as dangerous as the smile that spread in warning across his grizzled features. “I said let her go.”

    The words chilled Lac and she nearly took a step backwards, despite being the one protected by this ghoul. Finn seemed to have no such compulsions; that or he was too dumb to understand the threat behind the tone. Lac’s bet was on the latter. Instead, Finn took another step until he was crowding the ghoul, towering over the Mayor’s smaller figure.

“You’re soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, and one day there will be a new mayor.”

“Come one, man. This is me we’re talking about!” Hancock chuckled, making a show of how unimpressed he was with Finn’s threat. “Let me tell you something...”

 

   Hancock slung an arm around Finn’s shoulders, looking for all the world like he was going to take the man down to the nearest bar where they would talk out their differences over a few rounds of cheap booze. What Lac didn’t see coming was the large knife Hancock pulled from the small of his back. She let out a yelp of surprise when the ghoul buried the wicked looking blade into Finn’s gut again and again. This time, she couldn’t stop her reaction and she found herself with her back suddenly against the rough wood of the gate. What kind of mayor stabs his fucking citizens, even if they were slimy assholes! She simply stared as Hancock calmly let Finn’s body slump to the ground before he crouched to clean his knife on Finn’s shirt.

“Now why’d you have to go say that, huh?” He asked the body, snugging Finn’s coat around his shoulders as if he was simply helping a friend look presentable in their drunken state. “You’re breakin’ my heart over here!”

   When he finished tidying Finn up, he looked over to one of the guards and jerked his thumb toward the wall around Goodneighbor. So that answered the question of the dead scavenger outside. Lac tried to calm her breathing, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She was beginning to seriously regret coming here. It might have taken longer, but she was sure Diamond City was full of good, clean, respectable jobs that didn’t involve a public stabbing before she even found work. Dogmeat chuffed at her hand in reassurance and she buried her hand gratefully into his thick fur. The movement seemed to remind Hancock that he had visitors and he looked back at the pair, pinning Lac in place with his gaze. His eyes were black, the deepest most unsettling black she had ever seen, and she had to look away.

 

“You alright there, sister?”

“Uh...ye-yeah” Lac stammered. She was more than a little upset by everything that had just happened, and truthfully, she really just wanted to go back to sleep and pretend this hadn’t happened. Or to wake up and realize this was just another weird, vivid dream. Yeah, a vivid dream would be nice.

 

“Now I know you had ole’ Finn handled back there, but a mayor’s gotta make a point sometimes, ya know?”

“A point?” Lac replied, slightly incredulous. It was enough to get her to look back in his direction and she pressed her back further into the gate when she realized he had moved closer. Jabbing an accusing finger at him despite his closeness, she continued,“You stab a man and then make a fucking pun about it?”

   Hancock was silent for a beat, then burst into laughter. “Haha! A point! I stabbed him and then –Oh god, I outdo myself sometimes!” Lac watched him double over in laughter again and wondered just how crazy he was...or how high. That seemed to be a common theme here, according to the rumors. When the mayor finally calmed down enough to speak again, he clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Seriously, though. Don’t let this little incident taint your view of our little community. Goodneighbor’s of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone’s welcome.”

“Of the people, for the people?” Lac parroted with a groan, “Oh brother...”

“Hehehe. I can tell I’m gonna like you already.” Hancock confided with a renewed chuckle. “Just consider this town your home away from home...So long as you remember who’s in charge.” He added with a conspiratorial wink.

To Lac, who had just seen the man murder a comrade in cold blood after being all buddy-buddy with him, this could be taken anywhere from ‘we’re-all-in-this-together’ to ‘I-know-where-you-sleep-and-you-are-next’. Needless to say, all she could do was nod and make wordless noises of agreement before peeling herself away from the wall and dashing into the nearest shop, giving the mayor a very,  _ _very__  wide berth. When she saw him shrug and stroll safely in the opposite direction, Lac turned with a sigh of relief….only to choke when she saw the proprietor watching her from behind the counter.

 

“Oh, fuck me!” Lac exclaimed vehemently, thoroughly fed up with the surprises Goodneighbor was throwing at her.

“Sorry, baby, but you’re in the wrong place for that.” The assaultron purred in an over-sexualized feminine voice. “Try the Hotel Rexford, or pick out a tasty morsel from the Third Rail. I sell weapons, not pleasure. More specifically, I sell anything that can kill a man. Except suicidal depression,” it amended with a disappointed tone, “That is unfortunately unpackagable.”

Lac blinked at the assaultron for a moment, trying to process what she just heard. “So...you’re a weapons dealer?” She queried, hoping she understood the robot correctly.

“That’s right. I’ve got a weapon here for every situation. Hunting, protection, cold blooded murder,  _ _HOT__  blooded murder...”

“Alrighty, then!” Lac chirped, holding her hands up and far away from her own weapons. She did not want to give the crazy robot lady any reason to test those weapons on her. “I think I will come back later. Maybe sell some of my junk off first, you know?”

“Come back when you’re ready to go all the way.” The assaultron hinted, and Lac swore that if an assaultron had lips, it would have been licking them seductively. Now, Lac had been in some awkward situations in her life, but never had she felt more objectified than in that moment. From a fucking robot, no less. Life could not get any weirder. Ducking into the store next door, she took back her statement when she was faced with another ghoul manning the counter.

 

“Oh, a new face walks into my store and you aren’t even screaming yet.” The ghoul smirks, her eyes twinkling in suppressed laughter. “The name’s Daisy. You let me know if anything catches your fancy.”

   Lac resists the urge to rub her temples as a headache began to bloom behind her eyes. This town was quickly turning out to be just too fucking much. “Honestly, after the past fifteen minutes I’ve had, you are likely the most normal person I have met.” she confided with a weary sigh. Being shocked time and again was really wearing on her nerves. “Seeing as you have yet to stab someone in my defense or proposition me, I think, we are going to start this out like regular sane people. So hi, I’m Lacuna. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Very polite! We are gonna get on fine.” Daisy chuckled. “From your ranting I take it you’ve already met KLEO then? I can practically see the panic coming off you.”

“KLEO?” Lac wheezed, “If you mean the assaultron next door who seems to specialize in weaponry and sexual harassment, then yes, I met her.”

“Oh, she didn’t mean anything by it, sister.” Daisy consoled the newcomer, “She’s harmless...mostly. The only thing I ever saw her hurt was the super mutants during raids and the occasional dumbass stupid enough to try and steal from her. Other than that, she’s perfectly, well ‘civil’ isn’t the right word, but you catch my meaning.”

“Sure,” snorted Lac, not sure if she believed the ghoul, “and I’m sure she rescues kittens and kisses babies in her free time.”

“This is Goodneighbor, sister, not prewar suburbia.” Daisy rasped with an amused cadence. “I’m not saying it’s perfect, but we are a lot more forgiving here than other places. Just give it a try. You might just warm up to this place.”

“We’ll see.” It was the best Lac could give, after all. Goodneighbor hadn’t exactly made a good first impression, after all. “Now this is a shop right? What is it you sell here, exactly?”

 

* * *

 

   Although her first day in Goodneighbor was the farthest from a good impression one could get, after a week in the quirky little community, Lac found she liked it a million times more than Diamond City. She was amazed at the sheer amount of honesty present. No one felt the need to put on airs, and despite the townspeople having little in the way of caps, nearly everything was shared freely. The things being shared typically tended to be chems, cigarettes, and booze, but hey, it’s the thought that counts. Nick had also been right about the amount of work available. It had started with simple scavenging and retrieval. A settlement the size of Goodneighbor certainly needed a steady income of resources that weren’t readily available in a post-apocalyptic landscape, so parties were formed on a daily basis to scour the surrounding ruins for supplies. It was dangerous work, as they had to compete with raiders and super mutants for the limited resources available, and it was far too often that not everyone made it back safely.

   It was during one of these raids that Lac found her skills useful. She had been with a smaller group that had splintered off the main party to search a building. They were outfitted with at least one gun per member, as was standard practice, but they were far from well equipped. This proved most obvious when they stumbled headfirst into an entire unit of super mutants who had been camped out in the building. Luckily, the noise the resulting firefight caused brought Fahrenheit up with her precious minigun and she summarily mowed down the mutties like it was spring cleaning time. While the fight had lasted only a little over ten minutes, four members from the original group were down with severe wounds. Before she could even stop to think, Lac fell into her old role of triage nurse and began barking orders in an effort to save as many lives as she could. While the others began applying pressure and bandaging the lesser injuries under her direction, Lac was applying stimpacks and cleaning the worst of the wounds before stitching them up. Braces and splints were made out of old furniture and the four were carried back on rough, impromptu stretchers while Fahrenheit led the way, her minigun at the ready. Once they were back in the safety of Goodneighbor, Lac turned them over to the tender mercy of Doctor Amari and they only lost one of the four.

 

   After that, they recruited her for every outing. No one questioned where she had learned her first aid skills, for which she was grateful, and she found she was getting a larger percentage of the share with each haul. It seemed being the medic was quickly paying off. Yet, she was still a long way from meeting her goal and she hadn’t even begun to look for better weaponry yet. Lac knew she needed to start taking on larger jobs in addition to the medic role. She just needed to find the right connections...or listen to Daisy’s advice and ask Hancock. The female ghoul had quickly become a reliable source of information, and later a friend, but when she had suggested that Lac look for work from Hancock, all Lac could see was him stabbing Finn in the gut that first day. She had laughed it off, assuring Daisy that she would if she got desperate enough, but she still had plenty of avenues to exhaust first. Lac felt that the closer she got to Hancock, the likelier it would be for her to end up on the business end of his knife. So she stayed away, no matter how tempting the offer of fast caps was.

   It was that very dilemma that had her sitting at the bar in the Third Rail. She often found herself there, usually celebrating a successful run if the drinks were on the house, but sometimes just to listen to Magnolia croon sweet nothings into the microphone in time with the smooth beat. Magnolia was a rare breed, an artist in a world of decay, and Lac couldn’t help but be drawn to her. It didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes, either. Sometimes they talked the night away, the drinks always flowing freely when the singer was present, but mostly Lac just wanted to hear songs that weren’t repeated every six minutes on the radio. It reminded her of home, but from a time before Nate and Nora. It was less painful, almost freeing in a way. The bottle of rum at her elbow certainly helped, too. With the bottle already half empty, Lac sat swaying on her stool to the music. Every now and then she would tilt up her mask and take a swig straight from the bottle because this was Goodneighbor, damn it, so fuck manners! This also meant that when someone bumped into her from behind, she nearly choked on the suddenly too big mouthful of over-aged alcohol.

 

“What the actual fuck!” Lac coughed harshly, bending over to keep the liquid from re-entering her airways as she fought for a liquid-free breath. It looked like the floors had had worse in their lifetime than a bit of booze spilled on them. Throwing a nasty look over her shoulder before remembering he couldn’t see it through the jarred mask, she added, “Do you think you can watch it when you mosey on up to the bar? A lady is trying to drink in peace here!”

“Really? Where?” the smarmy man shot back, cocking an eyebrow while not budging from his place. “Funny, the only lady I see is Mags up there.”

“Oh, you cocky little asshat!” Lac blurted, righting her mask and waving her bottle at him. “You think your funny, don’t you? I bet...wait, are you even old enough to be drinking?” Sure enough, a closer look showed that behind the sharp features and broken nose, the person before her couldn’t have been older than 23. She poked at him with her free hand and started laughing when he pouted indignantly. “You’re just a brat! Oh my god, you’re so cute!”

“And you’re so drunk.” he retorted huffily. “Do I look like a kid to you- no!” He interrupted when she opened her mouth to say ‘yes’, “Shut up, that was a rhetorical freakin’ question!”

“Oh, he knows a big word” Lac cheered, clapping her hands together and promptly sloshing rum on the bar top. “Gold star for Jimmy over here!”

 

“Fabulous. You both get a gold star,” Whitechapel Charlie cut in as he made his way over, furiously scrubbing at the puddle of rum Lac had left on the bar, “A gold star for being a pain in my metallic ass. Now order or get out of my face. Unless you’re here to settle your tab, MacCready?”

“Ah, actually... come to think of it, I uh, I hear someone calling me over this way!” The brat, apparently going by the name MacCready, stammered out with a weak laugh. He turned and waved to no one in particular before facing Charlie and adding, “It will just have to wait til next time! Gotta go...and can you add a bottle of my usual? Gotta keep potential clients happy, yeah?”

   Before Charlie could tell him exactly where to shove his poor excuse, MacCready trotted away at a pace that was just fast enough to be called running away, but slow enough that it wasn’t obvious to everyone in the room. Lac snorted into her bottle as she took another swig, only to jump in surprise when a bottle of whiskey was slid across the bar into her lap.

 

“Why Charlie,” she cooed at the gruff Mister Handy unit, “I didn’t know you cared.”

“Don’t go gettin’ any ideas.” Charlie shut her down dryly. “That there is for MacCready and you are going to deliver it to him. I have my pincers full trying to clean up the damn mess you lot are continually making.”

“What? Why?” she squawked back, unsure if she heard the robot right through his thick British accent. “I don’t even know the guy.”

“Yes, well if I see him again, I might just strangle him, and I would really hate to kill him before he settles his debt.” Charlie explained, his tone easy as if he were talking about picking up fish from the market instead of contemplating murder. “ _ _You__  were getting all chummy with him, and  _ _you__  were the one getting my bar all dirty, so  _ _you__  are going t’be the one to deliver the bottle. You got a problem with that?”

   Lac contemplated the possible repercussions of denying the bartender who supplied her with drinks on a regular basis. “Nope,” she chirped, “I hear you loud and clear.”

“Good, now move. You’ve got a queue forming behind you.”

   Blinking, Lac turned around. Sure enough, there was a female ghoul with a bob of short, curly blonde hair hanging on the arm of a drifter with dark sunglasses and a wool cap pulled down low over his ears. She wouldn’t call it a ‘queue’ but she waved sheepishly anyway and slid off the bar stool so that they could move up to the bar and order. Taking a moment to steady herself on wobbly legs, Lac secured a bottle in each hand and began the perilous task of crossing the bar’s interior to the small private room she had seen MacCready disappear into. When she only stumbled into one of the support beams and none of the patrons, she determined it was a new record and burst into the room with a cheer.

 

“Congratulations!” She crowed loudly, twirling around and plopping down on the couch beside the brat from earlier. “You’ve got a bottle of overpriced, shitty whiskey and some company! It’s your lucky day!”

“Holy fu-firetruck!” He amended quickly, his change of surprised expletive sending Lac into a fit of giggles. MacCready grabbed his whiskey out of her hand and shoved her off the couch in retaliation. “Yeah, yeah. It’s a hoot. Now why don’t you go bug someone else. I’ve already had my fill of idiots today and you’re just one too many for me right now.”

“Ah, come on.” Lac needled, not bothering to pick herself off the floor where she now sat. Leaning against the cushions, she saluted him with her bottle. “We’re friends now, right? Being yelled at by the angry British robot is a bonding experience.”

“No, that’s a daily occurrence, lady.” MacCready corrected with a snort. “And if you thought that was him yelling, you have obviously never seen him when he really gets going. You either haven’t been here long, or are new to the whole ‘drinking’ business. Judging from your ‘drunken behavior’ to ‘bottles down’ ratio, I am gonna go with  _ _both__.”

 

“Don’t be like that! I’m kinda starting to like you!” she pouted, laying her head against the cushion and watching the ceiling spin. “You got spunk, kid, and it’s starting to growing on me...like a fungus. Kind of annoying, but unavoidable.”

“Really? I’m flattered” MacCready deadpanned, rolling his eyes as it drew another giggle from her. “Seriously. Go bother someone else. Didn’t you call me a brat? Why would I want to shoot the breeze with someone like that?”

“Yeah, but you remind me of someone...” the words were out of her mouth before she knew she was thinking it. He really did. Who was it...She jerked upright and slammed the bottle into her open hand “Ah, I got it! You remind me of my little brother! Holy shit!” Rounding on the younger man, she grabbed his chin and pulled his face this way and that to get a closer inspection. “You sorta even look like him. It’s actually kinda creepy, now that I think about it.”

“Get off me, woman!” MacCready grumbled, swatting her hand away from his face and rubbing his abused chin. “Did anyone teach you about personal space? Or basic manners? Sh-Seriously! I’m half surprised this brother of yours hasn’t killed you by now, if you act like this around him!”

 

That sobered Lac instantly. Visibly wilting, she sunk back to the floor and resumed her lean against the couch. “He can’t. He died...a long time ago. He was sick and well...I wasn’t around near the end. We weren’t nearly as close as we used to be.”

Above her, Lac heard him curse under his breath. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up. I didn’t know-”

“It’s alright,” she assured him with a weak laugh, “I’ve had a long time to come to terms with it. It was just a little uncanny how much you resemble him, and then when you started being snarky, well...I just couldn’t help but tease you. It’s an older sibling thing. I think it might be written in our DNA that we have to dish out shit.”

MacCready snorted at that. “Charming.” He commented, then raked his fingers through his messy hair with a sigh, “I know what you mean though. I grew up with a whole bunch of other kids. We always gave each other crap, but if anything from outside threatened anyone, there would be hell to pay.”

“Yeah!” she agreed, a sad smile on her face. “That’s the way it goes.”

 

They were silent for a while, each lost in their own thoughts before MacCready perked up slightly. “So this brother of yours, was he any good with the ladies?”

That drew a laugh out of Lac, her chest hurting with the force of it. “Are you kidding me? He was the biggest dork to ever roam the face of the earth!”

“Well, crap.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't notice, Lac tends to be a lovey drunk. Also, MacCready really does remind me of my little brother. I couldn't help but throw that in there when I practically adopt him in every playthrough. They even share the same first name and age, for christ's sake!  
> As for Hancock, there will be much more of him (and Mac) in the next chapter. I can't very well leave out my favorite ghoul boyfriend, can I? No. You will have kinky ghoul fun...eventually. That being said, I am off to write! LAD Out!
> 
> Edited 2/8/18
> 
> (Note: As much as I love them, the characters still aren't mine and I continue to play with them knowing that. No claims.)


	6. Brotherly love and Booby traps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MacCready is a lovable asshole and convinces Lacuna to take Hancock up on a job offer...that offer is reconnaissance on the Pickman Gallery. The rest is self-explanatory. Part 1 of the Pickman Gallery quest.

 The friendship that bloomed between Lac and MacCready could be described in one word...odd. To an outside perspective, they annoyed the shit out of each other and teased mercilessly. To the two of them...they annoyed the shit out of each other, but did so with a type of masochistic irony.

   Yet, they also helped one another. When MacCready learned Lac didn’t know how to pickpocket, he taught her how to swipe someone’s belongings without them noticing. He even turned it into a game, daring her to nick a specific item from a passerby without them noticing with the loser paying for drinks that night. In return, Lac taught him basic first aid and was simultaneously amazed and appalled at what little he knew. His knowledge seemed to consist of throwing a fungus-filled bandage on everything and hoping for the best. She personally had no idea how he was still alive. Yet he was, and it seemed his sole purpose here on earth might be to bug the hell out of her. All in all, though, she didn’t mind. It was how they connected, and after a few missteps, they knew where was alright to poke fun at and which topics to steer clear of. Through trial and error, they learned more about each other and used it as ammunition in their friendly game of war. Lac soon discovered that MacCready blushed easily, especially when it came to kinky or vulgar talk, and she used this information to make him turn bright red whenever they were around others. On the flip side, MacCready found out that Lac hated slimy things and would do nearly anything to get them away from her...including do a weird squirmy dance around him and climb atop the nearest tall object/person/etc. Whenever this happened, he nearly pissed himself from laughing so hard.

“You’re a freaking field medic!” He crowed, holding his stomach as if it would make it stop cramping, “I have literally seen you holding someone’s guts in! How can you be freaked out by a little bit of scum on a stick when you touch guts all day?!”

“There’s a difference!” Lac yelled back in defense from her perch on the tall filing cabinet. She had maybe two feet of space between the cabinet and the ceiling, but short little MacCready and his stick of queasy grossness couldn’t reach her there. “It’s slimy and from god knows where. That can be something that came off a feral for all you know!”

“Yeah right!” he tossed back, then crouched down and whistled for Dogmeat. Ignoring Lac’s squawked protests to get that away from her dog, MacCready presented the stick for the Dogmeat’s inspection. “Here you go, boy. What do you think? Is it anything to be afraid of?”

   

   The German Shepard cocked his head at the stick, whining softly when it wasn’t thrown for him. Moving closer, he sniffed the gooey mass on the end curiously, then to everyone’s horror, he licked the slime. MacCready dropped the stick with a disgusted noise and Dogmeat took it as his cue. Biting the gross end, he took off with his prize before his master could shimmy free of her hiding spot to stop him. With a frustrated shout, Lac raced after her dog, MacCready in tow behind her.

“God damn it, Mac! If he dies, I am blaming you!”

“That dog might be smarter than us both! I think he wouldn’t lick it if it was dangerous!”

“He literally licks his own ass, Mac! He does so on a regular basis! Do not tell me he is too smart to stick bad things in his mouth!”

“You’re just jealous that you can’t lick your own ass!”

   Lac gasped in outrage at his comment right as she saw Dogmeat stop in front of someone on the street and drop the stick at their feet, tail wagging furiously. Seeing her chance, she barreled into Dogmeat, pinning him to the ground while grabbing the contaminated stick and raising it out of his reach. “No, Dogmeat! That stick is gross and you shouldn’t try and eat it. What if you get sick? Then who would lead me around this hellhole?”

“You let your dog lead you through the Commons and you still survived the trip to Goodneighbor?” a voice above her commented incredulously, “Smart pooch.”

 

   Lac looked up in surprise, letting out an unflattering strangled noise when she realize that Dogmeat had been offering to play fetch with none other than mayor Hancock. The ghoul looked down at her in amusement, a smile creasing his ravaged face. Realizing he was talking to her, she scrambled to her feet and rubbed the back of her head nervously while letting out a sad attempt at a laugh. “Haha, yeah. He is really something. I get lost pretty easily so I usually just start heading in the right direction and he takes over. We always get to where we were headed, usually after a few accidental detours on my part...” Lac realized she was rambling and faded off. MacCready, who had pulled up beside her, let out a snort and elbowed her in the ribs.

“That’s a pretty handy trick, there.” Hancock commented, scratching Dogmeat’s ears. “You might want to keep him close. Especially out here in the Commonwealth. You need all the friends you can get...” he paused and grinned at her, as if he knew something she didn’t, “Speaking of friends, I hear you are in need of some caps. Word from an old acquaintance of mine in Diamond City says you pack quite the punch for a woman your size and can handle a tough job or two. If you are still looking for work with a bigger payload at the end, I might have something you would be interested in. Come see me when you get the chance.”

   Lac was frozen where she stood, watching as the mayor turned on his heel and meandered back toward the Statehouse, calling out to a random passerby with an eager wave. Had she really just been offered a job? And who was this mysterious contact from Diamond City he had mentioned? The only person there who had ever seen her fight had to have been Nick Valentine, but she couldn’t even picture the two men sharing the same room, much less getting chummy enough to share information on her. But who else could it be? A hand waving in front of her face brought Lac back to reality.

 

“Hello, earth to Lacuna! It anyone in there?” MacCready teased, “Are you suffering shell shock or something...or does someone have a crush on our infamous mayor?” He added, eyebrows waggling dramatically.

“No! Fuck off!” Lac replied vehemently. “I saw him stab someone in the gut not five minutes after I walked through the gate for the first time. I am pretty sure that crushing on him is the least likely thing I would be doing. Tactical avoidance maneuvers sounds more like it.”

“Holy crap, that was you?!” He exclaimed in surprise, eyes wide as the pieces fell together. “I knew you were new here, but I never thought...huh, that explains why you are never around the Statehouse. Also kinda explains why you’re still dirt poor. The best jobs here either come from Hancock or merc work, and you don’t exactly seem the type to get your hands bloody, no offense.”

“Yeah, so what’s your excuse?” Lac grumbled, not liking her distrust of the towns beloved mayor being aired like the latest dirty laundry. She scrambled for a change of topic. “I don’t see you rolling in the caps either, and I know you place bets on how far away you can land the perfect cock shot. Bloody hands obviously don’t bother you, no offense.”

“Eh, I’ve got my reasons. Nothing you should worry about.”

“Considering you are paying for my drink tonight, I will continue to worry.”

“Alright, alright. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” He retorted huffily, waving off the comment he knew was coming from her and hurriedly continued before she told him the exact state of her panties, “You know I’m always good for a drink. What I want to know is if you are gonna take Hancock up on this job. I was serious when I said he paid well. Caps, chems, you name it. The guy can set you up if you don’t mind doing some dirty work. What d’ya say?”

 

   It was so tempting to immediately say no, to laugh him off and continue with her small but steady flow of incoming caps. But at the same time, he had a point. Quick caps. It was the entire reason she had come to Goodneighbor in the first place. Nick had said he would send word when he found out more about Kellogg, but that could be anytime between today and a month from now. She needed to be ready when it happened, not still scrambling to get her act together. Groaning loudly, she caved.

“Fine, but you are coming with me. I am not sticking my neck out for nothing, and seeing as you are making me seriously contemplate this, you are sure as hell going to be there when I make an idiot of myself.”

Grinning evilly, MacCready snickered. “No way in heck I would miss it!”

 

* * *

 

   They waited until it was later in the day to head up to Hancock’s office. The reason was twofold: One, Hancock was usually occupied with complaints, bookkeeping, and other mayoral duties earlier in the day, and Two, Lac needed that long to gather enough courage to actually walk up the winding staircase to Hancock’s office. MacCready being behind her making chicken noises both helped her steel her spine and made her want to punch him. With an impressive amount of restraint, she resisted the urge. Instead, she set her shoulders and knocked on the office door. After a moment, the sound of shuffling came from inside and the door opened a crack, Hancock peering out in confusion from the other side. When he saw who his visitors were, his face cracked into a smile and he opened the door wide.

“Come on in, make yourself at home!” He called over his shoulder as he turned and made his way over to a ratty couch in the center of the room. In front of the couch sat a coffee table laden with so much drug paraphernalia that Lac was surprised it wasn’t creaking under the weight of it all. There were literal piles of inhalers and syringes, all filled with an assortment of brightly colored chems. MacCready sauntered over as if he hadn’t a care in the world and took the chair opposite the couch, slumping down with a smug little grin as Hancock passed him a beer. Lac realized why when she went to join the men, only to realize the only other seat was on the couch next to Hancock. She shot her friend a glare he couldn’t see through her gasmask and lowered herself down to the couch. See, she wasn’t afraid of him! Smartass little punk. She tallied one up for him even as she plotted revenge.

 

“So you decided to take me up on my offer? Perfect.” Hancock began, offering a beer to Lac as well. When she shook her head, he shrugged. “Gotta keep a clear head for work, huh? I can respect that. If you are ever in the market for goodies, though, you let me know. The Third Rail has got the best booze money can buy in these parts and the Mayor always gets a discount. I usually have something stronger tucked away in my pockets too, if you are ever feeling it.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Lac turned him down politely. “I am really just here for work right now. I kinda need the caps.”

“So I heard. No problem. Let’s see, hm...” Hancock grabbed a jet inhaler from the table and fiddled with it while he thought. “Oh, right! I have something that sounds perfect for ya; in and out without too much hassle. Ya see, I got reconnaissance needs and I’ve heard from the neighborhood watch you are pretty damn sneaky and know your way around that shotgun of yours. That’s just the sort of thing I’m needed, ya feel me? There’s a lotta weird talk comin’ in about a place called the Pickman Gallery. It’s raider territory up there, but they’ve been quiet lately. Like, uncomfortable post-coitus quiet? It doesn’t sit right with me. Snoop it out and give me the word.”

“Pickman Gallery?” Lac questioned, “I’ve never heard of it. What can you tell me about the place?”

“Nothing,” Hancock shrugged, “that’s why you’re going out there. I sent some boys out a while back, but have heard from them since. It’s been long enough that a search-and-rescue is likely out of the picture, but if you see any signs of them, I need to know. That being said, you should watch your step.”

“Gotcha. Go scout the creepy black hole area in the middle of raider territory and let you know what happened to your previous scouts. Sounds like a piece of cake.” The sarcastic drawl had MacCready giving her ‘abort, abort’ signals, but Hancock just snickered.

“Yeah, pretty much. Be thorough, though, okay? I’m not paying for a look-see. You need to find out what’s really going on there.”

“Got it.” Standing, Lac motioned to MacCready. “Hey, brat. You tagging along? You could always use this opportunity to try and prove you are more useful than Dogmeat.”

“Can Dogmeat deliver a perfect headshot from nearly a mile away?” Mac huffed in mock offense, “I think not!”

“You know, I don’t think he’s ever tried. Why don’t we set him up with a sniper rifle and we’ll see what he can do. He is a dog of many talents, after all. He might turn out even better than you.”

 

   Ignoring MacCready’s outraged gasp, Lac gave Hancock a tight nod. “Mayor.”

   Hancock flicked her a lazy salute, more occupied with the inhaler he remembered was in his hands, and Lac took it as a dismissal. Turning to the door, she added “Hey Mac! I’ll meet you by the gate in fifteen!”

   She knew he would be there before her despite the middle finger salute he gave her in return. Taking the stairs two at a time, she nodded to the watch stationed at the bottom and collected Dogmeat from outside where he had been mooching iguana on a stick from some of the neighborhood kids. Dogmeat just wormed his way into your heart like that. Whistling for him to follow, she made her way to the Hotel Rexford where she had a room. Burst through the doors, she ran up the stairs and unlocked her room. Inside, the rumpled covers on the bed and her pack laying on the floor beside it were the only signs that someone had been living there. Scooping up her bag and throwing it on the bed, Lac emptied its contents onto the sheets and began to sort through what she could possibly need for the trip. She wanted to pack light. She knew by now that she turned into a hoarder when she traveled and would pick up the most random junk. It had turned out to be a good habit, as she was able to scrap much of it down or sell it to various vendors, but Mac still complained nonstop whenever she asked him to carry anything. So the emptier her bag, the more crap she could shove into it. Problem solved.

   She also took the time to change into her fighting gear. Her tattered jeans and flannel might work for an outfit around Goodneighbor, but it would be shredded within minutes out in the Commons. Out there, she wore reinforced leather with metal plates she had scavengers off of raiders for added protection. Once her get-up was complete, there was at least a visible difference between the soft little ragamuffin that had stumbled into Goodneighbor and the slightly more experienced woman about to leave through those same gates. While she still couldn’t hold a candle to the residents of the odd little town, she knew she could at least survive out on her own better than before. Which was about to be put to the test, if she went on what Hancock had said. His warning almost made her want to leave Dogmeat behind, but she also knew he was likely more capable than her. She compromised by strapping some makeshift armor on him out of her spare parts and securing goggles on him to protect his eyes. It had the added bonus of making him unbearably cute and she spoiled him with treats and kisses until it was time to roll out.

   Just as she had predicted, MacCready sat on the stone wall in front of the gate, legs swinging and sniper rifle ready in his lap. When he saw her approaching, he hopped off the wall and followed her through the gate. Despite now being out in the fringes of the Commons, MacCready began his usual stream of half-hearted grumbling.

“I thought you said fifteen minutes.” He complained, “I was waiting there for at least a good half hour. Did you really need time to pretty yourself up? Isn’t it kinda pointless to go through all that trouble just to put that mask over it?”

“No, I had to get Dogmeat ready. He is much more of a diva than I am.” Lac corrected, motioning to her dog’s new armor. “Isn’t he so cute with his new goggles. We match now.”

“Oh my god. You are the worst, you know that?”

“Please tell me you are not  _ _just now__  coming to this realization?”

“Bite me!” MacCready snapped, jabbing her side with the butt of his rifle. “Also, shut up. We are supposed to be doing reconnaissance, remember? That means they  _ _aren’t__  supposed to know we’re here, not ‘try-to-invite-them-to-a-tea-party’.”

“Really? You started it!” Lac chided, though she did drop her voice to a whisper. When he rolled his eyes at her and mimed her tone, she snorted. “Someone’s a little snarky today. What? Did Hancock turn you down after I left? I’ve seen you staring at that ass. Does the brat want some big boy action?”

“Sh-shut up!” His stammering was too loud, too rushed, and Lac nearly stumbled she whipped around so fast to stare at MacCready. To her utmost delight, he was red as a ripe tato and he couldn’t look her in the eye. Suppressing the boil of laughter that threatened to overflow, Lac pointed a steady finger at him.

“We will be revisiting this topic later and I am going to have so much fun!” she promised, mirth dancing in her voice. He just groaned in response and murmured something about murder-suicide. It took everything she had in her to not start cackling. Yet as much as she would love to tease him, his earlier point had been valid. They were no longer in the relative safety of Goodneighbor and raiders could be lurking in any of the surrounding buildings. So with one last teasing poke at the man beside her, Lac dropped down into a crouch and began once again sneaking her way through the devastated cityscape.

 

   Although they rarely traveled together alone, Lac, MacCready, and Dogmeat had already a set pattern when scouting. Dogmeat led, acting as an early alert system for everything he couldn’t bypass with Lac right behind him. It put whatever Dogmeat found within easy range of her shotgun. For whatever the pair couldn’t handle, there was Mac bringing up the rear with his sniper rifle. Lac had to admit, the kid really did have a talent when it came to sharpshooting. She was still in the process of trying to learn, but it was largely hindered by the fact that Mac refused to let her use his gun. No amount of reasoning, begging, or threats could separate the man from his prized possession. For trips like these, however, the combination of close and long ranged weapons had all bases covered, so she didn’t mind. So long as they didn’t end up ambushed in a building, there wouldn’t be a problem.

 

   The first few blocks were the hardest of the trip. Due to the nature of their job, the trio opted to sneak past what raider gangs they could. Shooting at them usually only brought more raiders in to investigate the noise, and Lac had a limited supply of ammunition. Surprisingly, MacCready made the most noise, but even he didn’t catch the attention of the raiders. It seemed they were preoccupied some other matter, one that had the bases they could see running on skeleton crews. Seeing the camps so empty had a tingle of unease running through Lac’s spine, but she chose not to dwell on it. She would simply include it in her report to Hancock and let him wrack his brain trying to figure out why. They weren’t even at the gallery, yet, so it wasn’t her problem. Yet the closer they got to their target, the more unsettled Lac became. Three blocks away, the raider camps were completely empty. It was a veritable ghost town and lac had never been so disappointed to  _ _not__  see raiders. Hancock had been right. Something was very wrong here.

 

“It’s quiet. Too quiet.” MacCready whispered, then snickered softly in an effort to lighten the mood. “I always wanted to say that.”

“You are a nerd,” her own reply just as hushed, “and although it is appreciated, I think I am too nervous for it to help.”

“Tell me about it. This place is giving me the creeps.”

“Amen, brother. Let’s hurry up and figure out what’s going on so we can get the hell out of here.”

 

   When they found the gallery, there was visibly little to distinguish it from the surrounding buildings. The most obvious indicator was the hoarse shouting of raiders around back.

“-You hear me Pickman?! You are fucking dead!”

“Yeah, you can’t hide forever!”

“We’re coming for- AGH!”

“Shit! The place if fucking booby trapped!”

   

   Turning to Lac, MacCready thumbed toward the direction of the shouting. “I think that answers the question to where all the raiders are.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I am back with new goodies in the form of creepy quests and our favorite characters being assholes! It makes me really happy to see Lacuna opening up to someone (poor Mac) and it means soon she will see Hancock isn't such a bad guy, once you move past the stabby bit. Anyways, expect Part 2 fairly soon. I had to split this beast up when I notice it had reached twelve pages! As always, kudos and comments fuel me! Please let me know how I am doing! LAD Out!
> 
> Edited 2/8/18
> 
> (Note: none of the characters are mine. I just play with them. )


	7. Gunshots and Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio make their way the the House of Horror and find Pickman at the end. Did they survive the traps and raiders only to die at the hands of a phsychopath, or was something much worse in store for them? Needless to say, Lacuna is sure that those dead eyes would haunt her for some time to come.

_ **Previously on Of Nightmares and Empty Spaces:** _

 

__When they found the gallery, there was visibly little to distinguish it from the surrounding buildings. The most obvious indicator was the hoarse shouting of raiders around back._ _

 

“ _ _-You hear me Pickman?! You are fucking dead!”__

“ _ _Yeah, you can’t hide forever!”__

“ _ _We’re coming for- AGH!”__

“ _ _Shit! The place is fucking booby trapped!”__

 

__Turning to Lac, MacCready thumbed toward the direction of the shouting. “I think that answers the question to where all the raiders are.”_ _

 

* * *

 

“Sounds like this Pickman fellow has it all figured out.” Lac agreed. “I just have to wonder why they are all ganging up on him in the first place.”

“And that sounds a lot like us going into that building. The building that is now full of raiders and is apparently trapped to heck and back...” MacCready’s tone was suspicious and he squinted his eyes at her with a frown. “Did someone slip buffout into your breakfast, or did you come up with that dumb idea all on your own?”

“Be thorough,” Lac rasped, her voice dropping into a poor imitation of Hancock’s, “’I’m not paying you for a look-see’… those words ring a bell?”

“I hate you.”

"Love you too, Mac. Now why don’t you pull your balls out of your purse and follow me.”

“My balls outta my- really, Lac? So where do you keep yours, Miss I’m-more-macho-than-you?”

“Oh hunny,” Lac teased, patting him on the cheek, “I have ovaries, not balls, which makes me at least twice as capable as you at anything I actually put any effort into, but that’s beside the point. Let’s keep moving. It’s time to earn our paycheck.”

 

   Motivational speech out of the way, Lac picked her way around the building to where they had heard the earlier commotion. Sure enough, two raiders stood guard at the door while a handful of their dead brethren lay scattered on the ground around them. It looked like opening the door had released a volley of spikes, piercing through the first wave of raider’s meager armor. From inside, she could hear more yelling; both of anger and pain. It seemed like more than just the front door was rigged. Motioning Mac forward, she whispered in his ear, “It’s all you, champ.”

   Screwing the silencer onto his rifle, MacCready lowered into a crouch, lined up his first shot, and fired. Before the body could even hit the ground, he fired his second shot. Both shots resulted in a dainty whole between the raiders’ eyes. Nice, clean, and efficient. Nodding, Lac took point and sidestepped the downed guards to scout the main hall while Mac rummaged through the raiders clothing. His kill, his spoils. Inside, more bodies littered the floor. Some appeared burned, missing limbs and dotted with shrapnel. So there had been some type of explosive too? It must have gone off before they reached the area. From the smell and the state of the bodies, it could have been any time within the past week. Lac was grateful for her gas mask as MacCready came in and promptly gagged. In a gesture of goodwill, Lac untied the bandanna from around her neck and offered it to her friend, who gladly accepted. Tying it around his nose and mouth, he nodded that he was ready to continue.

 

   Room by room they searched the building, finding evidence of horrors behind every door while they hunted for clues and loot. From the looks of the remains, it appeared that this Pickman fellow was kidnapping raiders and torturing them in ways that defied sane imagination. The bodies were then exsanguinated and posed, each with a calling card placed somewhere on the body. Lac could easily tell the victims from the bodies of raiders who died in attacks on the gallery. In one of the rooms, they also found the bodies of three ghouls, their gear and clothing resembling those worn by the Goodneighbor scouting parties. The lack of calling card and the fact that they were laid out with some care but not posed made Lac think that perhaps these had been the victims of raiders, not Pickman. She found it odd that he would show some small respect for the scouts, yet commit horrible atrocities to the bodies of his raider victims. With everything about the types of victim Pickman preferred, the scouts, and the posing of the bodies added up, it wasn’t hard to tell that it was the work of someone who was suffering from severe mental illness. Back before the war, this would likely be a criminal profiler’s wet dream and worse nightmare. It made Lac dread opening the next door. Yet when she did, she was stunned.

   The room was relatively devoid of furniture. The emptiness of the room only drew more attention to the vibrant paintings adorning the walls. Astounding shades of yellow and red contrasted the harsh black slashes of rough lines, each painting sharing a color scheme but unique from the rest. Staring at them, Lac moved closer to examine them more closely.

 

“They’re amazing,” Lac murmured, her nose pressed so close to one depicting a shadowy man with wings that it almost brushed the paint. “The work that went into these! It was like he poured his entire soul into them!”

“No, I think the word you were looking for is ‘creepy,’” Mac corrected with a shudder. Dogmeat huddled behind the man, looking like he agreed wholeheartedly. “They are freaking me out. Seriously, as clique as it sounds, the eyes are following me!”

“Nah, that’s probably just the man behind them watching you.” Lac teased. “Haven’t you seen the old holo-vids? They open a panel in the wall behind the painting and watch you while you change clothes.”

His whisper was harsh as he replied. “You are evil and one of these days I am going to get you back for this.”

 

   Lac snickered, but it turned into a full volume scream when there was a loud explosion from behind the walls and below them. It was nearly drown out by MacCready’s panicked shout and Dogmeat’s yelping whine. The paintings rattled against the wooden wall before settling crookedly back into stillness. A muffled cry of pain rang out and was abruptly cut off, then silence. Lac scrambled back over towards the others and shared a nervous look with MacCready.

 

“Alright, that joke isn’t nearly as funny now.”

“Y’think?” He hissed back, rearranging his gun for quick aim. “Let’s hurry this up before I need new pants. I’ve had about enough of this place.”

   Picking her way across the trash littering the room, Lac approached the only other door in the ‘art’ room. Quickly picking the lock, she opened it to reveal a storage closet with the back wall knocked out. The opening led to a passage that looked carved out of the earth before it dropped off into bricked walls that rounded a corner and led back toward the art room walls.

“You have got to be kidding.” She was really beginning to regret that joke. Dropping down into the passage, Lac lowered herself to a crouch and held her shotgun ready. Dogmeat followed immediately after to avoid the spray of buckshot if she fired and Mac reluctantly followed after him. While there weren’t holes in the paintings to peek through, there was a fair amount of light sifting through the uneven planks of the wooden wall, easily lighting up the passage and allowing a slatted view of the room. Lac hurried past it and continued down the passage. They appeared to be heading down beneath the gallery if the slope of the tunnel was any indication. There were a few places where she almost slid, it was so steep, and there were stairs in the worst spots. Evidence of the explosion they had heard in the art room lay at the base of one of these stairs. The remnants of a tripwire and the jagged hole decorating the middle of the wooden steps showed evidence of a well placed trap, but only one body lay below. Most concerning, his throat had been slit. Past the dead raider, the passage seemed to open up into a cavern of sorts. Carefully stepping over the body, Lac pressed flush against the wall and peeked into the cavern for signs of danger.

 

   The room turned out to be some type of cistern, almost like it had once been part of a storm drain or sewage system. A hole partway up the wall let light stream in, hitting the center of the room where a large canvas stood propped against a makeshift easel. Seeing no obvious signs of ambush, Lac went to go investigate. On the canvas seemed to be a fresh painting, the paint still shiny and wet in some spots. Brushes leaned against various pots and buckets, each holding colored pigments. A strange smell, eerily familiar, hung in the air about the painting.

“Hey, Mac” Lac called, “You have to come see th-”

 

“Fucking hell! You’ve got to be shitting me!” His strangled curse had her spinning, gun up and searching for what had him so distressed. To her confusion, he was leaning over a cluster of paint cans, his face tucked into his elbow as if he was trying to fight back nausea. The tips of his fingers were stained red.

“Hey, you okay back there, MacCready?” She asked, worried by his reaction. “You aren’t exactly the type to just start randomly cussing-”

“No, now is exactly the time to be cussing!” His voice was muffled by the bandanna and his arm, but she could tell something had him really upset. “That isn’t paint, Lac; it’s fucking blood! That freak has been using their fucking blood as paint for his shitty, creepy as hell paintings! That’s...Fuck!”

   Bile rose in her throat and she could understand MacCready’s sudden use of language. Now was definitely the time for some choice expletives. Turning back to the painting in the middle of the room, the image took on a whole new meaning. The most disturbing part was that it was still so beautiful, despite knowing its origins. Shuddering, she decided not to examine that feeling too closely and instead turned to the tunnel on the opposite side of the room. “Alright. Let’s hurry up and finish exploring so we can get the fuck out of here.”

 

“What?!” MacCready exploded behind her. “You are actually going to keep going? We know what happened here. A whacko-nutcase happened here! Luckily for us, he seems to like raiders, but I’m sure he would make an exception when he finds out we are trespassing!”

   Lac frowned at him. “Until I see his dead body or a pile of dead raiders, we don’t know what happened here. All we know is that he has been hunting them, and now they are retaliating. We need to know if the raiders are going to become a problem again or if he is going to branch out and start kidnapping people from the search party for more of his paintings.”

“Right, and when you end up as one of his pictures instead for being so god-damned nosey? What then?” MacCready growled, the most angry Lac had ever seen him. He was practically vibrating with it. “Does a handful of caps really mean that much to you?”

   Lac had had enough. She was just as terrified as Mac, but there was a reason she took this job and she was going to damn well finish it. “Yes!” she hissed, “I am going to finish this job for a fucking handful of caps because each measly little cap means I am one step closer to finding the asshole to took my baby and putting a bullet in his fucking brain! Is that a good enough reason for you, MacCready?”

   MacCready froze. It was if a switch had been flipped and he went from radiating anger to shell shocked in an instant. “Baby? You have a kid?”

“Yes, I have a kid, but this is not the time or place to talk about that. All you need to know is that someone took him from me and I intend to get him back. To do that, I need enough caps for a fucking arsenal. Now that we are on the same page, I am marching my ass down this tunnel to find and kill whatever douchebags survived this Tunnel of Death, and I am going to finish what I started. Are you with me or are you going to go guard the entrance?”

   He came out of his shocked state enough to muttered under his breath. Scrubbing his face with his clean hand in exasperation, he conceded. “Fine, but you owe me. You are literally the only person I do shit this crazy for. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, well I am pretty sure I am also the only one asking.”

“True.” It came with a resigned snort as he crossed he room to join her. Dogmeat was slightly less willing, which bothered her more than anything else. If her dog didn’t even want to go down the tunnel, was it really worth it? Steeling her spine, she decided it had to be. Hancock had better give her a small fortune for the trouble he was putting her through.

 

   The tunnel they took led them into an old sewer network, a massive labyrinth of tunnels, catwalks, and rusted pipes. The network also happened to be crawling with raiders. While this meant that they now had to fight their way through the tunnels, it also hinted that they were getting close to their end goal. Secrecy was thrown out the window as shotgun blasts and the snap of MacCready’s rifle echoed through the tunnel system, mixed with the pop of pipe pistols and screams. Dogmeat stayed down in the lower portion, not afraid to get wet, while the humans traversed the pipes above. Every once in a while, Lac would pause to feed her dog Rad-X and check his radiation levels. The water was always contaminated in places like this. They only stopped for these checks and to strip the bodies of their valuables. Soon, both Lac’s and MacCready’s packs were full of armor, guns, and other assorted loot that might fetch a good price back at Daisy’s shop. Lac was just thinking she couldn’t fit any more into her pack when the tunnel opened into another cistern and she jerked to a halt.

   In the center of the room below, a group of raiders ringed a man in a clean, well kept suit. He looked relatively harmless but the raiders were careful to keep their distance. There was a definite difference between the lone man and the raiders, a contrast Lac was used to seeing in reverse. The raiders were on edge, nearly hiding behind the support pillars as they ringed the well dressed man. The man, on the other hand, stood tall in front of them with an unaffected posture. He either did not understand the danger he was in or he possessed so much confidence in himself that his very body language spoke to how little of a threat the raiders posed him. It disturbed Lac. That type of invincible feeling usually was only seen in people very high on a select handful of chems, but his steady stance and clear gaze contradicted this notion. And when his eyes flicked up to glance at her briefly, Lac felt a stab of fear rip through her chest.

 

“Finally got you, Pickman.” The apparent leader of the raiders sneered, his tone harsh and mocking. “You thought you could hunt and torture our people to your heart’s content...you were dead wrong. I’m gonna enjoy killing you.”

   There was a blur of movement, and at first Lac thought the raider had moved to make good on his word, but she found herself gaping when she realized it had been Pickman. He straddled the now prone raider, right arm rising and falling in rapid succession with only the glint of a blade and the sling of blood telling of the violence playing out before her. Pickman was oddly silent and his expression was neutral, as if he was simply carrying out another chore on his list.  _ _Clean the kitchen, fold a load of laundry, kill the raider ring leader, pick up a gallon of milk…__  Lac didn’t realize she was standing there staring until the other raiders began screaming.

 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Get him! Kill him now!”

   Gunfire exploded in the cavern, the sudden noise jarring and ringing violently in Lac’s ears. Beside her, Dogmeat leaped from the ledge into the cistern proper, latching onto a raider’s leg and dragging him down. This was familiar. She was used to fighting raiders and that familiarity brought out of her shocked state. Lac jumped down from the ledge and ran to her dog, unloading a shotgun blast point-blank into the head of the raider he had pinned on the ground. Hearing cussing behind her, she spun and delivered a swift kick into the gut of an oncoming raider, knocking him back enough so she could raise her shotgun. She pulled the trigger and the gun kicked in her hands, but she was close enough to her target that the aim was true. Before he had time to recover, Lac broke the barrels and reloaded before snapping it closed and delivering a second blast to his chest, just in case. In between the harsh coughs of her shotgun, Lac could hear the pop-and-whine of Mac’s high velocity rifle fire overhead. She trusted him to take care of anyone she couldn’t see.

 

   This was particularly useful in the chaos that erupted when the raiders realized they were fighting on two different fronts. Many panicked and began to fire at anything that moved, causing a considerable amount of friendly fire. Between this and the actual damage from their opponents, the raiders quickly fell. Before she knew it, Lac turned and found no new targets, just a room full of bodies and her dog sniffing curiously at a detached leg propped against a large steamer trunk. Lac frowned. She was forgetting something, something important…she twirled with a shriek when something lightly touched her shoulder, skittering away from the source of the touch. Standing behind where she had been was Pickman, his once laundered suit now soaked heavily with blood. It smeared across his face and hands, framing emotionless eyes that stared back at her hauntingly. He moved closer and to one side and it wasn’t until Lac scrambled backward into a pillar that she realized she was being herded. Pickman’s smile let her know she had moved according to his plan. When Dogmeat growled at the man, Pickman made a sharp slicing motion through the air. To her surprise and dismay, Dogmeat cowered with a whine. Turning back to Lac, Pickman pinned her in place with his empty stare.

 

“That was close. Thank you.” His voice was wrong, lilting lightly in a pleasant tone as if to make the entire scenario less than it was. It was the type of voice she would expect of creepy door-to-door salesmen. She did not like it directed at her and she tried to not let it show. Suppressing a shudder, she nodded in acknowledgment.  _ _Let’s not upset the serial killer__ , Lac thought desperately. Pickman watched her, but gave no obvious sign to indicate his inner feelings...if he had any at all, that is.

“You helped me when you did not have to. It was unexpected and unneeded, but appreciated.” He continued, his voice still too even for the violence that he just perpetrated. “Those men deserved worse than death. This will have to do.”

 

“Move, damn you!” Lac heard MacCready whisper harshly, the shape of the cistern carrying his voice and magnifying it. From his perch on the ledge, he must not be able to get a clear shot. So that was why Pickman had backed her into a pillar. His calm planning in the middle of danger had her blood running cold. This man was more dangerous than she had given him credit for. It was obvious that the raiders weren’t the only ones to underestimate him. She needed to distract him before he decided to leave her as just another body on the floor, lost among the others. She wracked her brain, thinking back to all the detective shows she used to watch with her family. He was a serial killer, right? Didn’t they tend to be an egotistical bunch? That was always why they got caught, because they assumed they never would be, and they loved to talk about themselves. Running with it, Lac did the one thing she knew she probably shouldn’t. She engaged him.

 

“Um...why-why did they want to kill you so badly?” she asked hesitantly. Pickman blinked and the first recognizable emotion flitted across his features. Curiosity? It was quickly replaced with his blank smile, a simple movement of lips with no real meaning behind it.

“A simple disagreement, no more. They objected to my hobby of collecting their heads.”

“Is that so?” Lac stammered, forcing a laugh. “I can’t see why they would object. The world could use a few more of you if it meant less raiders!”

“Perhaps,” he mused, “although I much prefer it with just two of us.”

“Two of-”

“Let me repay you for your help.” He interrupted, once again invading Lac’s personal space and drawing her focus on him. “It’s a small gift, nothing more, but I think perhaps a worthy token.” Pickman pulled something from his jacket pocket and pressed it into her hand. The object was small, warm and hard where it dug into her leather of her gloves as he clasped her fingers around it. He did not remove his hands from hers. “When you return upstairs to my house, look deeply within the painting  _ _A__ _ _Picnic for Stanley__. There you will find my gratitude.”

 

Raising the hand he held in his to his lips, he pressed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. Lac couldn’t help the reflexive yank of her hand, trying to free it, but Pickman’s grip was steel. He lowered her hand and gently rubbed a thumb over where his lips had touched, then released her. She clutched her now freed hand to her chest and watched in barely suppressed panic as he slipped quietly into a dimly lit passage a few feet away. Opening her hand, she saw he had given her a key. With the danger now gone, Dogmeat slunk up to her side, his tail tucked firmly beneath him. She dropped to her knees and hugged him desperately. After a few seconds of breathing heavily into his fur, the shuffle of clothing let her know Mac stood beside her.

“Hey, I’m sorry!” He pleaded, his words racing fast from adrenaline, “I couldn’t get a shot and when I moved- the way he looked at me….I thought he was going to kill you if I made the wrong move, Lac! I’m sorr-”

“It’s okay, Mac.” She breathed, voice shaky. “I understand. I really don’t think I could have done any better had I been in your shoes. It’s okay.”

   When she looked up, MacCready’s face was pulled down in anger and shame. Standing, she wrapped him in a hug, feeling his smaller frame go rigid in surprise. Just when she was about to let go, he returned the hug with a too-tight squeeze, as if he was out of practice and didn’t remember how to return to small affection. Lac tried to laugh, but it sounded off kilter, so she settled with ruffling his hair and giving him a light headbutt. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t think he is going to bother us anymore. At least not today.”

   Lac released her hold on MacCready reluctantly. In a flash of spite against the man who still had her nerves on edge, Lac picked the lock on the steamer trunk and emptied it into an already full pack. It may be nearly too heavy for her to carry, now, but she was damn well going to make Pickman regret setting her on edge. Satisfied, she made her way over to the ledge they had jumped from. She could have followed Pickman, for he obviously knew the exits, but she had no intention of getting anywhere close to him after what had just happened. Hoisting herself up, she whistled for Dogmeat. The German Shepard easily cleared the hurdle and after MacCready pulled himself up, the three picked their way back through the labyrinth of tunnels to the entrance in the art room. As they passed the paintings, Pickman’s words whispered in her mind and she slowed. Beside her, MacCready paused, frowning at her.

 

“What is it? Did you forget someth-” He began, then his eyes landed on the key still gripped in her fist and his tone turned incredulous. “You have got to be joking! Seriously, Lac?!”

“We might as well.” She reasoned. “No matter what it is, we can probably sell it.”

“That man is psycho!” he hissed, his rebuttal simple but sound. “For all we know, it could be someone’s dismembered head!”

“I still think we should at least look.” She followed the statement by peering at the small tile titles under the paintings. Finding the one Pickman had mentioned, she looked closely at the canvas. “I am not going to leave behind something valuable just because he scared me. If I do that, he wins. I am not going to let that bastard win!”

“Fine, you want to trigger some kind of trap, you go straight ahead. I am going to be outside the room, you know, for when you blow yourself up!”

   Lac spared the man only a frown as he huffed out of the room before turning her attention back to the painting. It looked normal enough. Comparing it to the others, she noticed the one in front of her hung further out from the wall than the others. Running her hands along the edges of the painting feeling for trip wires, she found none and carefully removed the painting from the wall. Behind it, built into the wall itself, was a safe. Using the key, she opened the heavy metal door. There were only two objects inside; a folded piece of paper and a sheathed knife. Pulling out both, she held the knife in one hand as she unfolded the paper to see what was written inside.

 

__Thanks, Killer._ _

 

   Underneath the elegant script was a streaky heart drawn in what Lac was almost sure was blood. Killer? Pickman’s earlier ‘ _ _only two of us__ ’ comment came to mind and Lac nearly gagged in realization. He thought she was like him? Where the hell had he gotten that idea from? Sure, she had killed raiders, but so had Mac! Why was this serial murderer suddenly so fixated on her?!

“Oi! You still alive in there?” MacCready yelled from the doorway. When she didn’t immediately answer, he peeked around the frame. “Hey, are you okay? What is it?”

“I think I need to get out of here, right now.” Lac replied, crumpling the note and heading quickly for the exit. When MacCready gave her an odd look, she shoved the note into his chest. “We need to report this area as a no-go. Especially if I’m in the party.”

“Wow. No kidding!” He trotted to catch up with her, her longer legs giving her the advantage. “Is this serious? Talk about majorly messed up! You are here for what, maybe an hour, and you somehow manage to have a demented psycho killer crushing on you?! I have met some really unlucky people in my life, but I think you take the cake, hands down.”

“Thanks, Mac.” She drawled sarcastically, “That is exactly what I wanted to hear right now. Why don’t you follow it up with how I can’t afford a decent gun or a warm, clean shower.”

“I was gonna go easy on you, but if you insist...”

Lac glared at him and shrugged her pack higher. They were going to have a very long trip back to Goodneighbor, and she wasn’t positive that MacCready would survive it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again! Another chapter down, so many more to go! As I am sure you can tell, I thought the Pickman Gallery was a fun quest, if a bit creepy. Yet when I met Pickman, I was immediately squicked out! And that weird, flirty note when you got Pickman's Gift....yeah, I love that knife but damn.Talk about heebie-jeebies!
> 
> I promise I will be nicer in the next chapter...there will also be more of our favorite ghoul! ;)
> 
> Edited 2/8/18
> 
> (Note: I do not own these characters, so please don't sue me. I just put them in horrible situations for fun, I swear!)


	8. Blow ups and Blushes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang confronts Hancock with their findings on the Pickman Gallery. Tempers flare, plans are made, and awkward flirting commences. Lac is VERY out of practice in the last department

The trip back to Goodneighbor was uncommonly easy. The scarcity of raiders continued to hold true and Lac was grateful, especially as dusk began to settle. She wasn’t sure that her overfull pack or her frazzled nerves could handle another firefight at the moment. Especially when Pickman’s note kept flashing in her head. Killer? Really? She had certainly gotten better at the whole ‘shoot-or-be-shot’ rule that everyone lived by here in the commonwealth, but she had never seen herself as particularly trigger-happy. It disturbed her on a few levels that someone saw her as such, but she wasn’t exactly in any position to go back and confront Pickman about it. The bastard had her shivering in her boots and he had done nothing more than smile at her. And kiss her hand creepily. Oh, and go fucking insane and stab someone to death in front of her! What about her luck told the universe she enjoyed watching people being stabbed right before her eyes? If Lac still believed there were any gods watching over this apocalyptic hell-hole, she would have cursed them and their sardonic humor.

 

Finally reaching the Goodneighbor entrance, Lac was half-tempted to collapse just inside the gate. Instead, she waved to Mac and continued past the Rail to dump her bulging pack off in her room. No point letting Hancock see the haul they brought in. There was no way in hell she was going to let that man rip her off after the day she had. She tossed her guns on the bed for cleaning later, and after a moment of internal debate, jammed the note into her pocket as proof of her trials and tribulations when she presented her story to the mayor. She would need proof, after all, of her crazy tale. Lac looked longingly at the bed, but knew she needed to get her report in. No doubt MacCready would already be waiting for her and if he had to go drag her out of bed (not the first time in their short history together) he would be more than pissed. With Dogmeat in tow, she headed back out of the hotel and over to the State House, where Mac stood leaned against the doorway.

“You actually made it over here?” Mac teased, though his tone was softer and wearier than usual, “I though I would have to go break down your door and find you passed out in the tub again! I’m so proud that my little sleeping beauty is actually getting her ass in gear!”

“Shove it, Mac. That only happened once” Lac snorted, holding in a tired laugh at her correct guess from earlier. “I really am too tired for your shit right now. Let’s get this over with so we can drink away what just happened and pass out so hard that we won’t remember today.”

“You a mind reader now, Lac?” Mac huffed, pulling open the door and leading her inside and up the stairs. “Or are you just letting me be a bad influence. That plan is a page out of my book if I ever saw one.”

 

He broke off at the Mayor’s door and announced their return with a sharp rap of his knuckles. A muffled sound came from the other side and Mac seemed to take it as invitation as he swung the door open wide. Hancock paused in the awkward position swinging his legs off the desk, his tricorn slipping over his eyes, having most obviously been roused from a nap. Lac stamped down the flare of temper that snapped through her. There was no reason to be angry. It’s not like he had sent her down there knowing what they were going to find. Just let Mac do the talking, and they would get out of this without any toes being-

 

“What the actual fuck did you sign us up for, you goddamned asshole!” Mac snapped, throwing his hat across the room to slap pitifully against the ghoul’s chest. Both Lac and Hancock froze in surprise, a puzzled frown plastering the latter’s face as MacCreaddy stormed across the room and slammed his hands on the Mayor’s desk. “Don’t try pulling this shit on me, again, you got it Hancock? You always know more then you let on and you still send us into that shithole without more warning-”

“Woah, woah! Calm down, there, RJ” Hancock urged, hands up in surrender at Mac’s sudden show of anger. It had even taken Lac by surprise, so she understood where Hancock was coming from. “I have no idea what’s going on. Slow down for a brother and take it from the top.”

“Pickman’s Gallery is most definitely a place to avoid” Lac choked out, fear and anger tinging her voice now that her supposed lead in the conversation had lost his own control.

 

Hancock glanced between MacCready and Lac, understanding darkening his eyes. “So it was rough there?”

“Rough doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Mac bit out. “That place was seriously fucked up. Trapped to hell, hidden rooms, shitty art made out of fucking blood and bodies; yeah, I definitely wouldn’t honeymoon there!”

“Don’t forget the dead scouting party and the tortured raiders.” Lac added bitterly. “Oh, and we can’t leave out the psycho serial killer!”

“That’s right, how could I ever forget about your new boyfriend!”

“Don’t go there, Mac!” Lac growled, hands curling into fists at her sides. “I would really hate to have to treat a broken nose after everything we just went through...”

“Alright, hold on a second,” Hancock cut in, his voice soft and calming as he eased around the desk to slide between the two friends. They both pinned him with a hard stare and Hancock put on his most disarming smile. “I have no idea what the two of you are on about, so why don’t we go nice and slow. Let’s start at the beginning and you give me the run down. I can’t compensate what I don’t understand, ya feel me?”

 

At the mention of compensation, MacCready settled down a bit, though his shoulders were still hunched up by his ears and with his shifty eyes he looked a bit like a ruffled crow. Lac rolled her neck and shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension that had built up there. Taking a couple of deep breathes, she forced herself to relax enough that she could work. Now was not the time to let her emotions run wild. Steeling herself for the talk ahead, she began.

“We could tell that something was wrong right from the beginning. You were right about the area being quiet. Every raider outpost we came across was either way undermanned or downright empty. The closer we got to the gallery, the fewer raiders we found. Right up until we actually reached the gallery, that is.”

“Yeah, a bunch of the raiders actually banded together or some crap,” Mac added, his anger having calmed enough that his habit of substituting expletives once again made an appearance. “Not like it helped. Pickman had that placed rigged to heck and back. I think he killed more of them with traps than we did.”

“So a gang of raiders got together to kill him?” Hancock asked, “Why?”

“From what we saw, he was hunting them.” Lac answered, massaging her right temple were a spectacular headache was beginning to bloom. “He would use them as...as his muses, I guess? We found quite a few bodies with torture marks, all of them drained of blood, and then posed like they were decoration. It was most definitely Pickman’s work. Your crew was just shot, likely by raiders, but Pickman laid them out all respectable, or some shit.”

Hancock sighed. “So they didn’t make it after all. I had...nevermind.” He sat his hat down on the desk behind him and scrubbed his face with both hands. Leaning his hip heavily on the desk, he refocused on the pair. “You said their were treated right? That’s something at least.”

“Yeah, I think the wacko just has a think for raiders.” Mac agreed with a nod. “It’s creepy enough without him going for our people.” At Hancock’s questioning look, he continued. “The guy uses blood and sh-stuff for his art. He literally paints with their freaking blood! It was some pretty messed up stuff!”

 

“You’re shitting me...”

“I really wish we were.” Lac said, “There was an entire room of paintings, just like the gallery the name implies. From that room, we found a secret tunnel that led down into the sewers, where the raiders had pinned Pickman...or at least that’s what we thought at first. I think he just led them down there to pick them off.”

“Crazy bastard had managed to loose or kill all but a handful by the time we got down there,” Mac took over. “You could tell something was wrong with him just by looking at him. One second, he was standing there with no care in the darned world, next he’s elbow deep in raider guts, slicing them up with nothing but a pig sticker.

“We probably would have stayed out of it, but the dog jumped in, and you know how Lac gets about her dog. Next thing I know, I am playing hide-and-seek with raiders while Lac here is blowing the head off of anyone who looks twice at Dogmeat. It was a pretty quick fight, everything considered. Then Lac lets out a shriek like she’s seen a ghost and I just barely make out the creep cornering her behind a pillar. I would have moved to get a shot, but the look he gave me...his eyes were dead. There was nothing human in them.” Mac ended in a near whisper. He had drawn his arms up around himself in either a shiver or a hug and Lac couldn’t blame him. When he didn’t continue, Hancock looked to Lac. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she coughed and took up the story.

 

“He, um…He thanked us for the help. He said he didn’t need it, but he was appreciative. I asked him why they had banded together to kill him and he explained that they didn’t like the fact that he was hunting them. He wasn’t outright hostile to us, but everything about him made me want to run in the other direction. Even Dogmeat was freaking out, but he wouldn’t get close to Pickman. All he had to do was motion at the dog and he stayed away. Dogmeat is fucking fearless, but he wasn’t going to tangle with this guy.”

Lac shook her head to scatter the fear that was trying to well up in her chest and throat. She was back in Goodneighbor; she was safe. “We didn’t tell him who we were or where we came from, so I doubt he’s going to track us back here, but I really don’t think we should be letting our people go in that direction. I don’t care if there are less raiders; there is something much worse there.”

When Lac looked up, Hancock was still staring at her with an odd expression. “Why did he corner you? He could have talked to you from anywhere, right? Was he looking for a hostage or was there something else going on?”

Lac shared a look with MacCready and he motioned that the stage was all hers. She was the one who had taken him up on his offered gift, after all. Sighed, she once again took up the narrative. “I don’t really know why me...I think he might have been impressed with my fighting? Or maybe he was watching us earlier? I did think his art was interesting, right up until I realized what it was. He could have heard me compliment it...but I really couldn’t tell you what was going through his mind. All I do know is that he thinks I am like him. Like, a crazy...I don’t know!” Lac stumbled as she tried to explain. “He cornered me because he either wanted to talk to me or kill me, but when I started interacting with him, I think I caught his interest. He probably doesn’t get too many polite conversationalist visits, you know? And well, by the end, he had taken some sort of weird fancy to me..” She trailed off, unable to continue. She unconsciously scrubbed her knuckles on her pants, trying to burn off the feeling of the brushed kiss against the thin skin there.

Seeing her trouble, Mac took the lead again. “He gave her a key and then left. It was like Dogmeat and I didn’t exist, or we weren’t a threat. Whatever. He left us alone and we hightailed it back the way we came after robbing him blind for our troubles. He had to have gotten out of the gallery before us, because the key opened up a safe that held his knife and a pretty creepy note. After seeing it, I definitely second the opinion that Lac should never go over there so long as that creep is alive.”

 

Hancock offered up an open hand, palm up, and Lac pulled the note from her pocket and let it fall into his palm. He looked it over quickly, a disgusted snarl contorting his features, before offering it back to her.

“No thanks,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I only held on to it so you could see. Feel free to burn it for me.”

“No shit.” Hancock laughed, though his voice lacked its usual humor. “No wonder you guys were fucking livid when you beat down my door. I would have been out for blood too.” Pinching what remained of the bridge of his nose, Hancock let out an exhausted sigh. She didn’t blame him. This was a nasty predicament, though some good could be seen through the mess. “Alright, I am going to send the order to stay clear of the area. I trust between the two of you kleptomaniacs, all the good shit is cleared out of the area anyway. Did you spot anything worth the risk of going back, or can I give the dead zone order in good conscious?”

“Nah, you’re good boss.” MacCready huffed, pretending to take offense at being called a klepto but falling short on the act. They had been put through the wringer and it was really beginning to show. “I would rather keep our people from ending up as a creepy ass painting than risk it for some junk.”

“Yeah, you and me both,” Hancock agreed. Leaning over the top of the desk, he wrestled open a drawer and pulled out a few pouches. The familiar tinny sound of caps clinking against one another perked MacCready up and he craned his neck to watch the mayor closely. “I’m thinking that the two of you deserve a raise for all your troubles. I’m not the type of guy go back on a deal, and you certainly brought me more info than I was expecting. How does 450 sound?”

“Put me on you tab tonight too and we have a deal!” MacCready haggled, always looking for just a little bit more. Lac rolled her eyes but could already see the outcome.

“Deal.” Hancock said, clapping the younger man on the shoulder and pressing a tightly packed pouch into his hands. “I’ll let Charlie know you’re on my tab tonight. Now go let loose. After the shit day you had, you could use a little R&R. Let me know if you need anything else to take the edge off. I got you covered.”

 

With a half-assed salute, MacCready wandered out the door, already digging into the pouch to count the caps he’d just earned. Like Hancock would rip him off, the paranoid bastard. Lac snorted, then started when a similar pouch was slapped into her hands. “And how about you, Sunshine?” Hancock asked, a slight edge of laughter painting his question at her startled jump. “What do you have planned for tonight?”

“Probably just going to join Mac in downing myself at the bar.” She replied, stuffing her pouch of caps in the waistband of her pants at the small of her back where it would be covered by her shirt. She had lived in Goodneighbor long enough to know that you don’t display your wealth where it could be easily pickpocketed. “Then maybe sleep for a week. I am exhausted after all of that.”

“Ha! I don’t blame you.” Hancock chuckled lightly, then nudged her with an elbow. “Like you don’t already sleep enough. I hear that half the time my boys go to grab you for a patrol, you are curled up with that mutt of yours dead to the world. You spend all night partying without me knowing? I thought I knew where all the fun was at, but if you are holding out on me, my ego will be irreparably bruised.”

“Oh, have you been getting into the Mentats, again?” Lac teased with a weary snort, too tired to remember why she had always stayed away from the mayor. After what she just experienced, he was far from being the intimidating figure she had thought he was. “If you keep using words like that, people are going to think you are upper class or something.”

Hancock wrinkled his face with a disgusted noise. “Fuck that. ‘Of the people, for the people,’ remember? Mentats just make me feel like I have a chance of keeping up with the chaos we call this city. A man’s gotta have his vices, after all.”

“Amen,” Lac agreed, but it came out distracted as her mind had latched onto an idea. She had never really asked around, not even to Dr. Amari after her previous experience with commonwealth doctors, but she was in Goodneighbor where chems were on every corner…Perhaps… “Hey Hancock, you ever heard of Jet Fuel?”

 

Hancock blinked, silent for a moment as he took in the seemingly random question, then barked a laugh. “Jet fuel, huh? You must party harder than I thought, Sunshine!”

“No, it’s not like that!” Lac stammered, embarrassed despite the company she kept. With a self-depreciating growl, she swallowed her shame and explained the best she could without getting into specifics that involved her pre-war life and vaults. “It’s just...well, you know how everyone always is teasing me because I’m sleeping? It’s because it’s a medical condition. My brain doesn’t produce the right chemicals, or there are too many signals coming at the same time and they get confused...no one really knows, but it makes me sleep a lot. There are other symptoms too, like hallucinations and stuff, but sleeping all the time is the most obvious one for me. Back home, they had medicine that would help keep me awake and alert, but here...”

She trailed off because Hancock was nodding. “I hear ya. Well shit, why didn’t you say something earlier? How long have you been out of your medicine?”

“About three months now, she admitted sheepishly. “It’s been pretty rough going, but it’s surprisingly easier to stay awake when everything is trying to kill you than I thought it would be. Adrenaline is a great motivator.”

“Right up until you crash and burn.” Hancock added with an amused snort. He led her over to the table in front of his couch and started digging through the assorted chems. “Let me see what I got here and then I can talk to my guy about fixing you up a lower dose. We might even be able switch things up a bit and see if we can’t give you the benefits while lowering the high...unless you like the high?” He hinted, tossing a smirk over his shoulder at her. Lac rolled her eyed behind her goggles and sunk into a hip. Getting the point, Hancock picked out a few goodies and offered them too her. She cupped her hands to accept the chems, then frowned when the familiar purple syringes of Med-X glinted among the unfamiliar inhalers.

 

“Why are you giving me Med-X?”

“Call it a gift.” Hancock said with a warm smile, “This is the first time you’ve come to me for chems, isn’t it? And I’ve noticed Daisy’s stock always runs a little low after you go visiting, so I figured I’d throw something in for free. Good choice, by the way.”

Lac mumbled a thanks while trying to hide the fact that her face was on fire. Sure, she had been using more Med-X than usual, both on herself and for those she treated in the field, but for someone who she had little contact with to figure that out was mortifying. Yet, she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth either. Nodding her thanks, she shoved the chems into the cap pouch before replacing it in her waistband. Clearing her throat, she started making her escape.

“Well, I’ve got to go make sure Mac hasn’t been kicked out of the Rail yet. He is my drinking buddy tonight, and everything. It would be a shame to drink alone!”

“If you ever need someone to drink with, you just come find me, Sunshine.” Hancock all but purred, once again leaning back onto the desk with a cocky air about him. “I can be a real gentleman when I want to. I’ll take real good care of you.”

“Right!” Lac squeaked, her red face burning hotter. Was he seriously flirting with her?! “I, uh- I’ll do that. Just gotta...gonna go find Mac now!”

 

Flushed down to her shoulders and never so grateful for how much her mask covered, Lac turned and fled before the situation got any weirder. She had certainly heard of his reputation as a flirt and his past as a womanizer, but she had never expected to see it for herself! She could hear his chuckling laughter follow her down the first few stairs and had little doubt that the guards outside the door were privy to her embarrassment. Wonderful. She would have to avoid everyone for at least a week. She had never been good with this shit. How were you supposed to react when someone was flirting, especially if they just did it for the fun of it?

 

These thoughts chased her all the way back to her room. There, she quickly sorted her rewards and hid them in her pack. Just because there was a lock on her door didn’t mean she trusted it. She had picked enough in the past few months to know exactly how reliable they were. Or weren’t. That done, she ripped off her mask and scrubbed at her face. How was she still so red?! Lac placed the blame at the fact that she had little to no close interaction with anyone except Mac for quite a while, and she saw him like a kid brother. You don’t flirt with your brother. In fact, she hadn’t flirted for quite a while before the bombs, even. She was close with her partners, and there was plenty of teasing and intimacy, but interacting with a stranger was an entirely different ball game. Flopping onto the bed with a groan, Lac decided she was a hopeless mess and was reading too much into things. She was just some random drifter who helped out here and there. Sure, she was quick in the field and handy with a needle, but those skills were no big deal. She had been avoiding him for most of the time she had stayed in Goodneighbor, so it’s not like he had been paying any special attention to her, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! I am sorry that I have disappeared for so long but I am back! Have a few chapters all at once in apology! As always, kudos and comments give me life and I love you all to pieces! LAD out!


	9. Mental Note: Bad Idea!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lac makes many a bad decision while in the company of MacCready. Consequences are had, but not all of them turn out to be that bad. Maybe Goodneighbor's Mayor isn't as scary as she first thought

Lac could say that she and Mac successfully carried out their plan to drink the bar dry, or at least enough that Charlie cut them off, stating something about ‘having enough of a liver after this to come back tomorrow’. Being kicked out of the bar meant that Mac spent the night crashing in Lac’s room, where he ended up waking up on the floor with a hangover to end all hangovers. Dogmeat, who had stolen Mac’s spot on the bed, had looked on mercilessly before spotting his chance to dig through Mac’s pack and eat the Sugar Bombs the man kept there. Mac had tried to stop him, but eventually collapsed into a whining pile of nausea and blankets. Lac slept through most of it, but when Dogmeat started whimpering, most likely from eating two entire boxes of Sugar Bombs, her protective instincts kicked in and she jerked awake. It was the entirely wrong thing to do. Ten minutes later found her wrapped around the toilet in the bathroom, pretending not to see what 200 years and the lack of housemaids can do to porcelain, while Dogmeat and MacCready suffered in the main room.

The trio spent most of their morning this way, the supposed adults switching between who held rights to the toilet and who had to make do with a bucket. They eventually both fled the bathroom after Dogmeat started gagging and Lac was quick enough to haul him into the bathtub before he emptied his stomach. The smell was enough that she opened the window and shut him in until their stomachs settled enough to deal with the resulting mess. The rest of the day was spent drinking water and recovering from the previous nights bad decisions. She silently thanked Hancock for his gift of Med-X and wondered if the ghoul knew it would be used so soon. The day after also saw MacCready holed up in Lac’s room, though this time they were sorting the looted equipment from the Pickman venture. Their haul was so large that they easily modded quite a few items to sell off to KLEO and Daisy. Lac was even able to replace some of her more worn armor pieces with some of those she had collected. Well, as soon as she cleaned them, that is. Nothing made her more uncomfortable than wearing protection that had the previous owners blood still caked on it. Call her paranoid, but she liked her armor clean and in obvious full working order.

 

A week passed in this manner; selling off their haul, hanging out with Mac at the Rail, going on patrol with the Goodnighbor scouts, etc. She was able to put the Pickman incident behind her because there was simply too much to do to dwell on it. In fact, she was so busy that she almost forgot about the items she requested from Hancock. It wasn’t until she was rifling through her bag for loose ammo when her fingers brushed the hidden inhalers. Pausing, she fished one out and looked at it closely. Someone had thought it funny to paint poorly done flames on the side of the plastic and it brought a snort of laughter out of her. She twiddled the inhaler between her fingers for a bit, then decided it would be safest to wait. Maybe she would ask Mac to keep an eye on her for the first time. Hancock had hinted that it was a stronger drug, hadn’t he? And this being her first time, she had no idea how she would react. Definitely best to wait until she had supervision that she trusted. Her mind made up, she dropped the inhaler back into her bag and continued her quest for the elusive bullets.

She held off for another two days before she tracked Mac down early one afternoon, hoping he hadn’t had too many drinks yet, and presented her dilemma. She tried to play off her narcolepsy as a minor matter, hoping he wouldn’t think any less of her for it. It wasn’t easy living with disabilities in the commonwealth and she had no doubt some people would distance themselves if they knew she had troubles. When she was finished with her explanation, he blinked at her silently for a few seconds, then cocked his head. “You’re telling me you sleep so much because you’re sick? It’s not contagious, is it?” He added, shrinking away from her suddenly.

“No, it’s not contagious,” she laughed nervously, “I was born with it. I just didn’t know what it was until I was older. They eventually put me on medicine, but we don’t have it out here.”

“Yeah, I hear ya there.” MacCready mumbled, then side eyed Lac. “So why take the chems? You seem to be doing pretty okay to me.”

“That’s because I am running on stress and adrenaline.” Lac deadpanned. “When those run out or I wear myself down enough, I will crash and it will be bad. I would rather skip that cycle and get this under control now. Chems aren’t the best answer, but they are better than any other option I have at the moment. The Doc in Diamond City pretty much ran me out of his office, so there’s no help from that quarter.”

“I guess you’re right,” MacCready said, “but why me? Do I look like a babysitter to you?”

“Honestly Mac, you are one of the very, very few people I absolutely trust with this. I will be locking up my caps, though, so don’t even bother looking for them while I’m tripping.”

 

MacCready griped huffily to himself, the phrase “ungrateful hag” the only thing clear enough for Lac to make out, but she ignored it with a broad smile and slapped him on the back. “Come on, don’t be like that! If you do this for me, I will put you on my tab for the next two nights...”

Mac stared her down, his eyes narrowed. “Four nights.”

“Two.”

“Three and a box of .50 cal.”

“Two nights, a box of .50cal, and a bottle of whiskey.”

“...Deal. I’ll meet you in your room when I’m done with this beer.”

 

Smiling at her success, Lac left the bar and wandered her way back to her room. Dogmeat was napping on the bed, waking up enough to identify that it was her before closing his eyes again. She let him be; she was to filled with nervous energy now to be calm enough to pet him. She looked around, itching for something to do. Yet her room was already tidy so she couldn’t even direct the energy to cleaning like she used to in the old days. Pulling off her mask and goggles, she threw them on top of her pack and pulled her hair up into a haphazard tail. Lord knew nothing was worse than mask hair and the scarcity of soap meant her previous hard-to-manage curls had now morphed into a veritable rats nest. When she detangled what she could without having a comb on hand, she gave up and left her hair alone With nothing else to do, she sat on the sofa and fiddled with a hole in her frayed jeans until Mac showed up.

She didn’t have to wait long. Before she had the chance to grow too restless, there was a knock on her door and Mac let himself in just as she was opening her mouth to answer. He paused in the doorway though, staring at her strangely while hanging halfway between her room and the hallway. Lac looked at him expectantly, but when he didn’t say anything, she moved close enough to poke him in the ribs.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?”

“You _have_ a face.” Mac said stupidly, then swatted her away when she made to poke him again for stating the obvious. “Well, I knew you did, but it’s the first time I’ve seen you without that stupid mask on.”

Lac blinked in surprise. “Really? But we go drinking all the time?”

“Yeah, and you only pull it up enough to drink.” Mac replied with a roll of his eyes. He finally stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “It looks stupid, if you ask me, but now that I see ya, I kinda understand...Do they hurt?”

 

Startled, Lac brushed her fingertips against the cheek Mac motioned to. Right, the scars. She grimaced. “Not anymore. They are mostly numb now. The mask was mainly for protecting them while they healed. Chemical burns are a bitch to treat, especially where mine are.”

MacCready winced in sympathy. “Yeah, I bet. How’d that even happen?”

“Long story that I don’t want to talk about right now.” Lac rushed, cutting him off before he could get ideas. “The good news is that they are pretty much healed now, so I don’t have to worry about them as much.” Clapping her hands loudly, she quickly herded him onto a new topic. “So! Now that you are here, are you ready to fulfill your lifelong dream of being a babysitter? I know you’ve worked hard to get to this day, Mac, and I believe in you!”

“Shut up and get high already!” Mac mock-grumbled, slapping her upside the head for her poor excuse for humor even as he fought off a smile. “The sooner you come down, the sooner I get to drink your caps away.”

“Fine, I see how you are,” Lac huffed, digging through her pack for the tiny canister. “Your respect for my well being is truly astounding.”

MacCready just laughed and settled down into the couch. Pulling her prize out of the bag, Lac settled down beside him and took a deep breathe. Nervous? Her? She let out a shaky laugh. “Bottoms up!” She cheered shakily and breathed in a hit of the stimulant.

 

She immediately began coughing, the harsh gas eating at the back of her throat and coating her tongue with a foul taste. MacCready made a choking sound as he tried to hold back his laughter, but eventually gave in as he beat her back to help her catch a breath.

“You are supposed to hold it in, you pansy.” He teased, unable to pass the chance to needle her. “If this is how you react, I really don’t see being a chem lord in your future.”

“Good, I guess I can leave that to Hancock.” Lac wheezed, more than a little tempted to try scraping the taste off of her tongue. “What the hell is in this shit?! It tastes like they cooked it in someone’s ass!”

“You really don’t want to know.” MacCready replied sagely, only to burst out laughing again when Lac looked at him in horror. When he could talk again, he comforted her. “Lucky for you, you probably got at least a half dose in before you lost all my respect. You shouldn’t have to take another hit. This stuff is pretty potent and works fast.”

“Yippy!” Lac croaked dryly. “Mental note for later: remember it tastes like shit and burns like a motherfucker! Gottcha.”

“Aren’t mental notes supposed to be, you know, mental?” Mac snickered. Lac slapped his chest playfully, but seeing as her head was starting to spin, she doubted there was much force behind it.

“Shut up. I am trying to make notes for later. It doesn’t help me if I can’t remember some of the pros and cons.”

MacCready snorted conspiratorially. “Yeah, good luck with that, boss.”

 

_Mental Note 2 : MacCready is a sassy dick and should be given no mercy._

Smiling at the thought, Lac laid her head against the back of the couch to watch the ceiling swirl, her heart racing and blood singing pleasantly through her veins. Maybe this wasn’t so scary after all…

 

* * *

 

_Mental Note 5 : Having MacCready watch her may not have been a good idea. He was WAY too overprotective. She was a full-grown adult, after all, and used to rock climb in college. Who was he to tell her she couldn’t climb out the window? And being four stories up has nothing to do with this argument, MacCready!_

 

_Mental Note 12: Lac missed otters. She has only ever seen a few, and none after the bombs, but the one she was talking to right now was quite pleasant. His fur was a shining a little bit too brightly, but he had such a cute British accent that she didn’t mind if she had to squint to look at him. They even talked over coffee. She loves coffee!_

 

_Mental Note 23: Sneaking away from MacCready is easy. Sneaking away from Dogmeat is MUCH harder. It might even be impossible…*Queue Mission Impossible Theme Song*_

 

_Mental Note 24: Dogmeat is a dirty traitor. He led MacCready back to her. She was never giving him squirrel bits again._

 

_Mental Note 30: She doesn’t know why she never liked baseball?! Swinging her bat is so much fun! She can’t remember where she got it, but it whistles so nicely through the air. That was probably due to the saw blades wired onto the aluminum, but who was she to judge. Time to hit a Home Run!_

 

_Mental Note...36? 38? Whatever: MacCready is a pansy ass and Hancock is much more fun when out playing baseball with raiders. Maybe that crazy swatter vendor in Diamond City was on to something with his insane views on the pre-war game…_

 

* * *

 

When light began to filter through her eyelids enough to wake up her groggy mind, Lac groaned and rolled over to try and block it out. That was a mistake. Everything burned like she had attempted a tri-athalon with no prior training. She whimpered and curled tighter into a ball, hoping that if she looked pathetic enough her body would give her a break. A rusty chuckle sounded from the opposite side of the room and Lac twitched. That was not a MacCready laugh. Scrounging up enough fucks to care was a difficult task, but she eventually raised her head enough to peek over her shoulder.

 

Hancock saluted her lazily from where he lounged in an armchair, a bottle of Nuka-Cola in hand with what looked like Mentats fizzing at the bottom. “Morning Sunshine. Or, afternoon, really. You had yourself one hell of a bender. How are ya feeling?”

“Like I got pummeled by a muttie, brought back to life, and then drown in quicksand.”

“Ha, pretty standard for your first trip, then!” Hancock laughed. Setting his drink down, he stood and moved toward the bed. Sitting on the edge, he drew a syringe from his pocket and waved it at her. Lac recognized the shine of purple as Med-X and didn’t object when he took her arm and found a vein. She sighed in relief as her body’s protest began to die down, then stiffened when she noticed a fair number of things at once. Looking up at the ghoul in suspicion, she began her interrogation.

 

“You aren’t MacCready.”

“You don’t say?” Hancock chuckled. “Did my good looks and charisma give it away?”

“This is not my room.”

“Nope. Welcome to the State House. Feel free to swing by any time.”

“These are not my clothes,” she began, then her words and panic sunk in, “ _These aren’t my clothes_! Why am I not in my clothes?”

“Calm down, Sunshine,” Hancock urged, his own voice soft. “You were covered in blood and worse when we got back. There was no way I was going to leave you like that all night. Far let you borrow a shirt and pants, despite the vast difference in size, and your clothes are soaking in your room back at the hotel. You cleaned yourself up, so don’t worry about anyone sneaking peeks while you were out.” He assured her with a wink. “Far stood guard and made sure no one dared.”

 

Her brain was still running a mile a minute, but his relaxed answers to each question let Lac breathe a bit easier. Memory was an elusive thing at best and her mental picture of the night before was a massive wave of chaos. She had brief flashes of running around the town, of getting into a fight with raiders, of dancing with Dogmeat and telling Mac to go fuck himself...I certainly looked within the realm of possibility. She opened her mouth to ask for details of what happened, but her stomach spoke first. The loud grumble of complaint left her cheeks burning red and Hancock snickering at her embarrassment.

“I think that’s the signal for lunch, don’t you?” He jumped off the bed, much too fast for Lac’s knotted stomach to follow, and strode through the open doorway. He returned shortly with a plate full of crab cakes and a few brahmin steaks still steaming and placed them on the coffee table by the chair he had first occupied when she woke up. “Get it while it’s hot, Sunshine. After the night you had, you could easily eat enough for three!”

Huffing, she rolled to the edge of the bed, but when she got onto wobbly legs, the borrowed pants immediately tried to reunite with the floor. Blushing up to her hairline, she grabbed the receding waistband and hoisted them back up, suddenly very grateful that Fahrenheit’s shirt was long enough to reach midthigh. Chancing a glance at Hancock, she found him fighting a smile, but the delighted twinkle in those smug eyes gave him away. Freeing a hand, she flipped him off and quickly stumbled her way into the chair beside him. She was going to kill MacCready.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I am so sorry for vanishing! Have another chapter (that may or may not be full of irl experiences) and enjoy the shenanigans of these dorks as they dink around the wasteland together! Comments are my lifeblood and kudos bring me to tears, so feel free to do either (or both)! LAD out!


End file.
